THE THREE BEARS 

— OF- — 

PORCUPINE RIDGE 

WILD DWELLERS OF FOREST MARSHmdLAKE 




-BY 

JEAN M.TH0MP3OM 





Class £ 

Book 



T 

- 




COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



THE THREE BEARS 

OF^P0RCUPli»llwgE/ 



WIL 




W.A.WILDE COMPANY 
BOSTON-CHICAGO 



T5 



Copyrighted, Iplj^ 

By W. A. Wilde Company 

All rights reserved 

Wild Dwellers of Forest, Marsh and Lake 



/^V^ 



■©GI.A858748 



CS 



In loving memory of 

My Mother, 

Emma Caroline Field 




I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 
V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 



The Three Bears of Porcupine Ridge 11 

King Neck, Leader of the Flying 
Wedge 



Met 



The Revolt of Timothy 

The Little Eed Doe of Deer Pass 

Dame Woodchuck and the Red 
Monster . . 

Tracked by a Catamount . 

The Call of the Moose 

The Last Wolf of the Pack 

How Unk-Wunk the Porcupine 
His Match .... 

The Ghost of the Wainscot 
Why the Weasel Never Sleeps 
Mrs. White-Spot and Her Kittens 
In the Bobcat's Den . . 
Why Ahmuk the Beaver Moved 
Nicodemus, King of Crow Colony 
The Story of Rusty Starling 
Where the Partridge Drums . 
How Solomon Owl Became Wise 
The King of Balsam Swamp 
7 



23 
37 
47 

61 

71 

89 

103 

115 
127 
141 
153 
169 
183 
195 
209 
219 
233 
245 



8 CONTENTS 

XX. The Giant of the Corn-Field . . 257 

XXI. The Bravery of Ebenezer Coon . 273 

XXII. The Narrow Escape of Velvet Wings 285 

XXIII. Nemox, the Crafty Eobber of the 

Marshes 297 

XXIV. The Keeper of Tamarack Ridge . 309 



PAGE 



Mrs. Bear Fiercely Tugged at the 

Cruel Chain Frontisjriece \/ 

That Very Instant Tom Fired *. . . 85 1/ 

Mrs. White- Spot Teaching the Little Skunks 

How to Take a Bath 157 

Solomon Failed to See the Trap . .. . 239 





.LUIL* 



IHREE BEAKS 



ID) 








THE THEEE BEAKS OF PORCUPINE RIDGE 

" Wl 00Fj woof ' woof '" called the little black 

V V mother bear gruffly, turning over a rot- 
ten log with her snout and uncovering a fine 
ant's nest. 

" Woof, woof," answered back the two round 
black balls of animated fur — the cubs, as they 
scrambled eagerly and clumsily over the log, and 
began to feed greedily upon their mother's find. 

The little black mother bear and her two 
cubs lived in a cozy den just below Porcupine 
Ridge, which happened to be far up on the side 
of Cushman Mountain. They were a happy 
little family, the three bears, and every day the 
two cubs grew more ball-like and lovable to 
their patient mother, who always managed to 
lead them to the very best feeding places. 
Through the dense, dark spruce forests, far 
down into the swamps below she took them, 
where they fed happily upon young frogs or 
crawfish, and the juicy sprouts of the skunk 

13 



14 WILD DWELLERS OF 

cabbages. Occasionally she would show them 
the way across the burnt swale, where the wild 
raspberries grew luscious and red. 

The three bears nearly always slept inside 
their den the greater part of the day, but as 
soon as the hermit thrush began to sing her 
sleepy lullaby song, and the old gray hoot owl, 
who lived in a giant sycamore tree just below 
the Ridge, " who-oo, oo'd," then Mrs. Bear 
would nudge the two sleeping cubs with her 
snout, and cuff them about with her great paws 
playfully, until they were wide awake. Then 
off they would all three start in the moonlight 
to make a night of it in the forest. And they 
never thought of coming back to the den again 
until morning, when they had usually satisfied 
their pressing hunger. 

Oh, life on Porcupine Ridge was peaceful and 
happy enough for the old mother bear and her 
two roly-poly cubs, and they were very con- 
tented with life until one eventful day some- 
thing happened which changed everything, and 
this was how it came about. 

One night, when it was " dark o' the moon," 
Mrs. Bear discovered a great patch of ripe rasp- 
berries in the edge of the swamp, and so while 
the two cubs were busy feeding upon the 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 15 

luscious berries, she suddenly became possessed 
with a keen desire for an adventure. So plung- 
ing deep into the swamp, she was soon across 
its treacherous quagmires, on through the dense 
spruce bush, and soon came out upon the far 
side of the swamp. She headed for the sheep 
pasture at first, but soon lost all desire for fresh 
lamb, for just then her keen nose had scented 
something far more desirable and delicious. It 
was honey. 

On and on scrambled Mrs. Bear through the 
sheep pasture, utterly forgetting the cubs ; past 
the rail fence she waddled, where sat the old 
gobbler turkey and his ten timorous wives, fast 
asleep, but uttering little, flurried peepings even 
in their dreams. But Mrs. Bear passed them 
carelessly by, and hurried on, with little eager 
"woof, woofs/' until she had come to the 
farmer's home lot, and then she knew she had 
found that for which she searched, for suddenly 
she came upon five beehives. With her snout 
she soon managed to upset one hive, and then 
coat, snout and paws were soon smeared thickly 
with the sticky honey. Mrs. Bear might have 
wished the cubs were there, but if she did she 
was enjoying herself far too keenly to trouble 
about them then. 



1G WILD DWELLERS OF 

She soon finished one hive of honey and then 
turned over another, but as by this time she be- 
gan to feel that she had had plenty for a while, 
just out of pure mischief, with her snout and 
paws, she simply tipped over the other hives. 
Suddenly Mrs. Bear discovered that a few angry 
bees had awakened and were clinging tightly 
to her thick fur, whereupon she immediately 
started off for the swamp at a quick, shambling 
trot, for well she remembered a certain deep, 
muddy water-hole, and making straight for the 
spot, she was soon rolling and wallowing con- 
tentedly about, trying to rid herself of the 
troublesome bees, and the sticky honey. It 
was here that the cubs joined their mother, who 
grunted and " woof, woofed," and as soon as 
the long yellow rays of approaching dawn be- 
gan to shoot up from the other side of the moun- 
tain, the three bears scrambled back to their 
den on the Ridge, and were soon fast asleep. 

Of course the* farmer found his overturned 
beehives, the next morning, and angry enough 
he was, I can tell you. 

" Ugh, a bear did this," he grumbled, as he 
examined closely the great, wide footprints 
which Mrs. Bear had left all over the ground. 
By following the bear tracks the farmer soon 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 17 

knew just what ground the old bear had covered. 
He even traced her to the mud wallow where 
she had rid herself of the bees and honey. Then 
the farmer sat about concocting a scheme to 
catch Mrs. Bear, for well he knew she would re- 
turn again after, more honey. But if there is 
one thing in all the world which a bear enjoys 
eating more than honey, it is a great hunk of 
crumbly maple sugar, for bears have a wonder- 
fully keen sweet tooth. The farmer climbed up 
Mount Cushman, and when he had reached a 
spot in the very heart of the spruce woods, which 
happened to be about a mile below Porcupine 
Eidge, he went to work and set a trap for Mrs. 
Bear, and this is how he went about it. 

First he hollowed out a kind of den near 
a deep spring, around which grew quantities of 
jack-in-the-pulpit plants, for the bears dearly 
love to browse upon the tender shoots of these 
plants. Then in the hollow he placed the bear 
trap, made of strong steel. After setting the 
trap he covered it craftily over with a layer of 
loose twigs, upon which he put, last of all, a 
great piece of soft, springy moss. Back of 
the trap he laid the bait temptingly, which 
happened to be a dead woodchuck. So that 
when Mrs. Bear should step upon the moss tus- 



18 WILD DWELLERS OF 

sock covering the steel trap, she would instantly 
spring it. 

Then the farmer went home and waited, 
visiting the trap daily, to see if Mrs. Bear had 
been there. Of course she had visited the place, 
for there the farmer found bear tracks, but 
who cares for a dead woodchuck when the 
blackberries are ripe, the frogs young and ten- 
der, and there is even honey, if one cares to go 
a journey for it. 

At last the farmer was almost in despair, 
thinking old Mrs. Bear never would be caught, 
and he knew when food grew scarce in winter 
time his turkeys and young lambs would no 
longer be safe from Mrs. Bear. So finally he 
thought out a new plan. And that very night 
when Mrs. Bear and the two cubs halted at the 
spring on their way down from the Ridge, to 
munch jack-in-the-pulpit sprouts, Mrs. Bear 
paused and stuck her black snout inquisitively 
inside the farmer's den, and what do you sup- 
pose met her astonished eyes ? Right over back 
of the moss tussock which concealed the trap, 
instead of the dead woodchuck was a great, 
brown hunk of hard maple sugar. Mrs. Bear 
would travel far for honey, but she completely 
lost her head when she scented maple sugar, so 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 19 

she planted one great, padded foot in the center 
of the moss tussock, then, before she knew it, 
something stung and gripped like fire into her 
great fore-paw, and with a sudden howl of sur- 
prise and rage, she backed out of the den, trying 
with all her might to shake off the cruel, biting 
thing which hurt her foot so wretchedly. 

Meantime, the cubs sat up in amazement 
among the tall ferns, and looking at their 
mother's sad plight, howled and whined in 
sympathy. 

Quite mad by this time with her agony and 
rage, not knowing what she was about, Mrs. 
Bear bolted, with the trap still clinging to her 
foot. Cutting a great, wide path in her flight 
through the underbrush on she ran. Up and 
down the mountain she tore, all night long, 
with the cruel trap ever biting deeper and 
deeper into her foot at every turn. 

" Bang, bang," went the farmer's gun, and 
the cubs hearing the loud noise, terrified out of 
their small wits, scurried off and lost themselves 
in the shadows of the great woods, while their 
poor mother, with a scream of baffled rage and 
pain dropped crashing into the underbrush. 

But the bear happened to be simply stunned 
by the shot, and so the farmer and his boys 



20 WILD DWELLERS OF 

took stout ropes and tied her four feet together 
and slipping a stout pole between them, in this 
fashion they carried her down the mountain, and 
then chained her to a tree near the barn. For 
the farmer and his boys were very proud of 
their live bear, and proposed to exhibit their 
treasure to all the neighbors. 

Oh, how miserable and unhappy the poor, 
little black bear mother was, tied fast to the 
tree, while boys and men poked at her and 
prodded her with sharp sticks, just for the sake 
of hearing her fierce, angry growls. Sometimes, 
when too hard pressed, she would even climb 
into the tree, to get away from her tormentors, 
but in vain ; the chain was too short for her to 
get very far away from them all, so she just 
howled and howled. 

" I shall have to put an end to that old bear ; 
she's too noisy," remarked the farmer that night, 
as he went to bed. , 

The moon came up that night over Cushman 
Mountain, big and yellow, and afar off among 
the thick, dark spruces, even above the singing 
of the frogs, Mrs. Bear's little round, alert ears 
had caught the sound of an occasional, helpless 
whimpering cry, which seemed to her strangely 
familiar. It was the two motherless little cubs 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 21 

crying, hunting everywhere for their mother. 
Slowly but surely they were tracking her and 
even now they were coming down the mountain 
slope, and very soon the mother bear, straining 
her little red eyes, caught sight of the two little 
round shambling forms of the cubs, stealing 
from behind the barn. 

The next thing they were all rubbing noses 
and " woof, woofing " together happily, while 
their mother fondled them eagerly, cuffing them 
playfully about with her free paw, almost for- 
getting about her smarting wounds, so de- 
lighted was she to have the cubs with her once 
more. 

But time was flying fast ; already had the old 
hoot owl come back from his night's wander- 
ings, and gone to sleep in his hole in the syca- 
more tree. Pale yellow rays had begun to take 
the place of the moon which had set ; dawn was 
on the way, and the bears realized that they 
must get away. 

Fiercely tugging at the cruel chain Mrs. Bear 
began to worry it, giving mighty tugs and 
wrenches, while the two cubs whimpered a 
chorus of encouragement. Finally something 
gave way, and trailing a long length of chain 
behind her, old Mrs. Bear and the two cubs 



22 WILD DWELLERS OF 

made straight across Balsam Swamp, and then 
scrambled and clawed their way up the side of 
Cushman Mountain, and not an instant too soon, 
for by this time the sun had come up, and day 
had dawned. 

Then the little black bear and her cubs 
crawled into their den under Porcupine Ridge, 
and the tall, wild sweet ferns, the clematis and 
nettles fell over their door, and you never would 
have suspected that the bear family were safe at 
home again, and had no fears whatever for any- 
thing, for they had all gone fast asleep. 




MI 



NEC! lEAJBp 
FIG WEB 



THTF 




II 

KHSTG JSTECK, LEADEK OF THE FLYING WEDGE 

TTIGH above the clouds, in the vast spaces of 
J- 1 the heavens, the wedge-like flock of wild 
geese traveled. Unless your ear was very keen, 
you could barely catch the sound of their steady 
honking cry, far down below upon earthland, 
nor could you distinguish the faint outline of 
the wedge, unless there should happen to be a 
rift in the thick cloud curtain above which they 
flew. 

All through the night they had journeyed, 
and for many long days and nights before, and 
the flock were becoming very wing weary ; still, 
in spite of this, they never swerved from their 
course, and kept up their rhythmic, plaintive 
" honk, honk-honk, honk," as they flew. The 
call was necessary ; it encouraged the weaklings 
of the flock, and kept the wedge together in 
unbroken line, for should one of the trailers fall 
far behind, he would quickly be swallowed up 
in the thick mists away up there in the track- 
less sky. 

25 



26 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Alone, ahead of the flock, flew Ring Neck, 
the mighty old leader of the flying wedge. For 
years he had led the migrating flock ; wide and 
strong were his great black wings, never swerv- 
ing or faltering in their flight, while his loud, 
strident " honk, honk " sent back courage to 
the flock which trailed behind him. He it was 
who gave the first signal for migrating, telling 
them when it was time to leave the sheltered 
wildness of the southern lagoon, where they had 
wintered, with its deep coverts and long, trail- 
ing mosses, and start north. 

Each year his kindred trustingly followed 
where he led them, thousands of long, weary 
miles. Usually the flock flew all night. If the 
moon chanced to be bright, you might see 
from earth the shadowy forms of the geese and 
flocks of migrating birds pass swiftly across the 
surface of the moon. 

Just behind Ring Neck flew the next most 
important bird of the flock, Black Crest, a young 
gander who in time would probably fall into 
line as chosen leader of the flock, in case the 
old king should drop out. In fact, even now 
Ring Neck had often to fight for his high posi- 
tion, for each year Black Crest grew more and 
more jealous of the leadership, and but for the 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 27 

terrific beatings which tl^e old leader gave him, 
from time to time, to teach him his place, the 
younger goose would certainly have been leader. 
But Ring Neck had no idea of giving way to 
this younger bird, no, not until his eyes grew 
too dim to pierce the mists, or his great wings 
too feeble to lead the flock. 

" Honk, honk, honk," called Ring Neck 
steadily and clearly, slowing down his steady 
wing movement a trifle and floating. Then, at 
a signal, the whole flock began to drop very 
gently to earth, following their leader ; down, 
down they fell. Now they were below the 
heavy white cloud masses, but still far above 
the morning mists. Ring Neck was leading 
them to feeding grounds and water. Finally, 
with swift wings he plunged straight through 
the mist curtain, and there right beneath the 
wedge gleamed a beautiful lake, spread out in 
the sunrise like a great silvery mirror. The 
flock were tired out, and glad enough that their 
leader had decided to rest. He seldom failed in 
his calculations, and could always locate water, 
no matter how high he might be flying, and 
always when he gave the signal to descend, they 
sighted the welcome pond. 

" Honk, honk ; come on, follow me," called 



28 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Ring Neck reassuringly, plunging eagerly 
straight for the lake. Then, all of a sudden 
he slowed down, swerving a trifle, and uttering 
a warning cry to the flock to hold back. 

Now what Ring Neck had seen with his sharp 
eyes was that, close among a thicket of reeds 
and cat-tails, he had sighted a strange flock of 
geese. Slowly fanning the air with his great 
wings, keeping himself afloat, and holding 
back the flock, Ring Neck swerved toward the 
strangers. There were six of them, all of equal 
size, and his keen old eyes flashed down upon 
them with curiosity and jealousy as he watched 
them floating calmly about upon the water. 
Never had he encountered such strange geese 
before ; stiffly they floated, rocking gently upon 
the water, but the strange part of it all was, 
they neither dipped nor flirted their wings, or 
moved their rigid heads about as all his own 
wild kindred always did when they struck 
water. No, these strange geese simply held 
their heads in a stiff, fixed position. Were they 
swimming, resting, or feeding, or simply keep- 
ing still, biding their time, insolently waiting 
for Ring Neck to lead his weary flock to water, 
and then perhaps fall upon them, tired out as 
they were, and drive them afar ? 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 29 

Now Ring Neck was old and stubborn, and 
very brave, so he made up his mind not to give 
in to the strangers, but as he wanted the coveted 
lake for his own flock, he determined to drive 
them off. 

Uttering a loud, strident scream of rage, he 
swooped like an arrow down toward the 
strangers ; with wildly whirling wings he beat 
the air, trying to frighten them to rise from the 
water. 

"Bang, bang, bang" snapped out the duck- 
hunter's gun, for he had been cleverly concealed, 
not very far away from his wooden decoy 
ducks, only Ring Neck had been so taken by 
the decoys that he had not seen him. As the 
gun spoke, down fluttered old Ring Neck the 
leader, and before the smoke and dropping feath- 
ers cleared, the gun pealed out and three of the 
flock fell into the water, and the hunter soon 
had them in his bag. But not so Ring Neck, 
for the shot had merely disabled one wing, so 
that he lay spread out, flapping helplessly upon 
the water, trying vainly to rise in air ; no use, 
and soon with snapping beak, and strong, wild 
thrusts of his black feet he was fighting off the 
hunter, but it was no use ; he was finally made 
a prisoner. 



30 WILD DWELLERS OF 

" Well, old fellow/' commented the hunter to 
himself, " I've shortened your proud career for 
a while, I reckon ; you're a mighty fine specimen 
of a goose ; leader of the flock, I expect," and he 
examined, admiringly, Ring Neck's glossy head, 
and the changeable feathers of his neck, circled 
about with its silver ring, gradually trying to 
calm his wild struggles, as he smoothed his 
beautiful plumage. 

Then the hunter made up his mind not to 
kill Ring Neck, for he had another, better plan. 
He resolved to train the wild goose as a decoy, 
and put him in among the wooden birds. 

" Perhaps, who knows," remarked the hunter, 
" you will be able to call down the rest of your 
flock if they come back this way next fall. I'll 
try you and see." 

So Ring Neck was spared, and then began his 
training as a decoy. Just so long as the wild 
geese continued to fly north, each morning, very 
early, Ring Neck was thrust into a bag and 
taken, with the hideous wooden decoys, to the 
lake. He soon learned to hate and despise the 
clumsy, imitation birds, and at first tried to 
rise and fly away from them, but his wing was 
not strong enough to sustain him, and so he 
always fell back weakly among them, where he 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 31 

would peck and jostle them about angrily ; but 
as the wooden things never showed fight he 
soon tired of them and let them alone. Diving 
and feeding, floating naturally and contentedly 
upon the lake among the stupid decoys, he it 
was who heard the first faint " honk, honk " of a 
coming flock of geese ; then he would become 
wildly excited and send back a loud answering 
cry, fluttering his wings and tolling the strange 
birds down to their doom. Not that Ring Neck 
wished the hunter to shoot them, which he 
always did if they came near enough. But 
somehow Ring Neck always hoped that the 
flock might be his own ; perhaps he even hoped 
to warn them away. At any rate Ring Neck 
soon became a very valuable decoy to the 
hunter, who grew very fond of him. 

As soon as the wild geese ceased to fly over, 
the hunter left the lake, for the season was over' 
nor would it open again until autumn, when the 
birds flew back south, stopping at the lake upon 
their journey to rest. So Ring Neck became a 
decoy no longer, but was allowed his freedom 
about the lodge. Strangely enough, he had lost 
all his wild desire to fly northward and join the 
flock, even though the association with the 
decoys had been galling. With each week his 



32 AVILD DWELLERS OF 

lame wing grew stronger, however, and finally 
his old, wild nature stirred within him, and he 
flew off alone. 

Ring Neck became strangely lonely, for it was 
hard for the old leader to be without the com- 
panionship of the flock. After floating and 
feeding out on the lake all day, at night he 
would beat down the coarse grass with his strong 
webbed feet, and crouching low he would tuck 
his broad beak beneath his wing and try to 
sleep and forget his loneliness. But often he 
was disturbed, for a crafty fox or some enemy, a 
wild night prowler, would thrust aside the 
reeds, and then with whirring, frightened 
thrashings, and terrified squawks, Ring Neck 
would fly to the water for safety. At daybreak 
he would feed near the banks, plunging down 
deep into the mud and ooze at the bottom, 
searching among the snake-like lily roots and 
water weeds for fresh clams, crawfish and in the 
shallows for shoals of little silvery minnows. 

One morning he rose to the surface of the 
water, flirting his great burnished wings, and 
sending showers of pattering drops over the lily 
pads, and suddenly stretching out his glittering 
neck he uttered a loud, hoarse call, full of plead- 
ing and loneliness — a cry of longing for his 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 33 

kindred. Then from a little hidden inlet, to his 
joy and surprise, came back a meek, answering 
reply — " honk, honk, honk." 

With swift, steady strokes Ring Neck followed 
the call, and there he found her— a beautiful 
green-headed duck, one of his own flock. She 
had dropped out of the flying wedge, weeks be- 
fore, and had not had courage to join them 
again ; perhaps she had even been wounded, by 
the hunter and had not been able to fly. At 
any rate she was very lonely, and soon Ring 
Neck made his presence known, and after con- 
sulting together, they built a beautiful nest, 
high and dry upon a little reedy island right in 
the middle of the lake, and there they raised 
ten young geese. 

There were few lonely moments now for Ring 
Neck and his mate, for the young birds had to 
be taught to forage for food, and most important 
of all, as soon as their wing feathers grew, they 
must learn to fly, and strengthen their wings 
for long flights, for Ring Neck knew that before 
the lake filmed over with its first ice, the flock 
must be far away in the southern lagoon, where 
no frost or cold could reach them. 

All summer long the old birds trained the 
young geese for their long journey, and then 



34 WILD DWELLERS OF 

when the frost began to touch the tips of the 
tallest trees, down in the lowlands, and to 
nip the little fox grapes, the migrating instinct 
came to Ring Neck and his mate. Another 
bear came to Ring Neck; perhaps when the 
flocks began to move southward, the hunter 
would come back and once, as if to remind him, 
he heard the crack of the terrible rifle, off in the 
woods, and saw the thin trail of smoke, which 
he knew. That day he flew back almost panic- 
stricken to the island, and with his mate and 
family nestled hidden together in the thick 
tangles of water weeds all that night. 

Early the next morning, before the mists had 
lifted from the bosom of the lake, they all took 
to the water to feed. But somehow, Ring Neck 
was overcome with his restless instinct of 
migrating, so that he failed to feed with the 
others. He would float about, nervously, ruffling 
his feathers, and flapping the water with his 
strong wings, uttering* little short, wild calls to 
his mate, until at last she became as excited as 
he. Then, suddenly, afar off, from somewhere 
beyond the blue hills, Ring Neck detected a 
faint, strangely familiar sound. 

" Honk, honk, honk-honk," it sounded, every 
instant coming plainly nearer and nearer, until 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 35 



Ring Neck, almost wild* with expectation and 
excitement, would make little sudden flights 
above the water, screaming and darting back to 
his mate again and again. Plainly he was try- 
ing to urge her to join him in long flight. 
She flew with him a short distance, then back 
to the water, uttering little, reassuring quacks, 
then Ring Neck joined her, and they urged the 
little ones to follow them. All the time the 
great, wild flock were coming nearer and nearer, 
and soon they were hovering right over the 
lake. 

Ring Neck rose from the water, giving a 
strange, unusual cry, then from far above floated 
back a ringing, answering challenge ; he had 
been answered, and recognized. It was his old, 
lost flock, and at their head flew Black Crest, 
his enemy, their new leader. 

Winging with great, wide, swift circles Ring 
Neck soon caught up with the wedge, then 
followed a whirling, flashing of wings, far up 
there in space ; a handful of feathers floated down, 
and when Black Crest, whipped and beaten as 
he had never been before, dropped back into 
second place as usual, Ring Neck, their old 
proud leader, took his position again at the head 
of the flying wedge. Swerving low, almost to 



36 WILD DWELLERS OF 

the bosom of the lake, he led the flock down- 
ward, calling all the time in loud, commanding 
voice for his family to join him. Back came 
the answering calls of his faithful mate, as she 
and the young geese rose from the water in a 
body, and took their places, falling into the tail- 
end of the wedge, as the great wild flock, headed 
by Ring Neck, went " honk, honking " away to 
the southern lagoon for the winter. 



TDE.R 




fflOTIY 



Ill 

THE KEVOLT OF TIMOTHY 

A LITTLE gray mouse, who lived in the 
-£*- wainscot, poked its nose cautiously out of 
a crack beneath the hearth, intending to snatch 
a morsel of food from Timothy's plate, which 
always stood there, heaped with dainties, but the 
next instant the little mouse had changed its 
mind, for there sat Timothy himself right upon 
the hearth in front of the fire guarding his plate. 
So, with bright, bead-like eyes, trembling nose 
and whiskers, the mouse, taking courage, just 
stared at Timothy, monarch of the kitchen. 

Such a majestic. air had Timothy as he sat 
there in his own place, which none presumed to 
usurp ; his silvery gray paws tucked neatly be- 
neath his warm furry breast, his big, yellow eyes 
just mere slits of sleepiness. Timothy saw the 
gray mouse quite plainly, but he never felt 
hungry enough to bother much about chasing 
mice, and, just to show his supremacy, Timothy 
merely opened one eye and stared insolently at 

39 



40 WILD DWELLERS OF 

the mouse, uttering little muffled, rumbling 
growls deep down inside, which so terrified the 
foolish little mouse that he immediately scuttled 
off behind the wainscoting, squeaking as he 
ran. 

After his nap Timothy lazily stretched first 
one gray velvet foot, then another, strolled in- 
dolently to his plate, turning over the food, 
carefully selecting choice bits, nosing out that 
which he scorned upon the clean hearth, for 
Timothy was a spoiled cat, and he allowed no 
one to interfere. Everybody waited upon him, 
moving their chairs even, for he was monarch 
of the hearth. 

After his lunch, selfish Timothy took a stroll. 
Ah, if he only had suspected, everything would 
soon be changed for him in the kitchen, for even 
now the dearest little stray dog, with soft coat 
of white and tan spots, had been received into 
the family while Timothy was out. Upon his 
return he soon saw the little spotted dog occupy- 
ing his place, and eating from his own tin plate. 

Fiercely indignant at the sight, Timothy 
arched his gray back until the fur stood up in 
ridges, as he spat vindictively at the stranger, 
while his big yellow eyes glared with such 
sullen hate that the little spotted dog shook 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 41 

with fear. Still he did npt offer to fight, or give 
back to Timothy his place on the hearth, and 
actually ate up everything upon the tin plate, 
while Timothy had to stand and look on, with 
deep, angry growls of jealous rage. Timothy 
felt sure if he stood there long enough he would 
be able to frighten away the dog, so he took up 
his position upon the opposite side of the hearth, 
and just glared and glared. 

But the little dog was brave and did not go 
away, and soon Timothy decided to vent his 
displeasure upon the whole family by leaving 
the house altogether. Of course they would be 
so anxious to get him back they would surely 
send the spotted dog away, and then he, Tim- 
othy, would return to the hearth. So Timothy 
went away. Vainly they searched for him, even 
setting out his tin plate each day filled with 
chicken bones to tempt him back. But Tim- 
othy resolved to punish them all, and the pam- 
pered fellow had actually taken to the woods, 
for his heart was so filled with bitter hate and 
jealousy that he simply would not return to the 
kitchen. Now the woods where Timothy wan- 
dered alone were wild and lonely, and in 
them were fierce " Bob Cats," ugly lynx with 
sharp, tufted ears, who snarled and fought at 



42 WILD DWELLERS OF 

night, and many others whom Timothy had 
never met. The first night in the forest he 
crouched beneath a clump of spruces. Soon a 
hedgehog came grunting along, and when Tim- 
othy spat at the hedgehog it simply turned its 
back upon him. " My, you're a sad coward. I'll 
teach you a lesson," said Timothy ; then he be- 
gan to cuff at the hedgehog and worry him. 
The next thing Timothy did was to climb a tree 
as fast as he could, for the hedgehog had turned 
upon him and driven his nose full of sharp spines. 
Most of the night he spent miserably trying to 
free himself from the sharp hedgehog needles. 
Next morning he was hungry. In a certain tree 
he found a bird's nest, with three scrawny 
young birds, so he had just put forth a paw to 
select one for his breakfast, when down upon 
his back lighted the mother hawk, and drove 
Timothy off into the forest. 

That night, faint with hunger, Timothy 
climbed a tall sycamore tree and tucking his 
paws beneath him tried to sleep. But he kept 
longing for the cozy, peaceful hearth which he 
had left, as chilly winds sw r ept through the 
woods and moaned through the sycamore, mak- 
ing its brown, withered leaves flap and clatter 
in a lonely fashion, quite different to the cus- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 43 

tomary cheery singing of .the copper kettle upon 
the hearth. A family of hoot owls awoke in 
their nest in the sycamore. Soon they discovered 
poor Timothy, and began to peck at him vi- 
ciously, hooting at him, and glaring at him with 
great, fierce eyes, so that Timothy hastily 
scratched his way down from the tree. Soon 
something soft and white came fluttering down 
from the sky, and little flakes of cold snow be- 
gan to settle upon Timothy's gray coat, while 
the wind began to howl, and the storm to break. 
Where could he go ? Poor, miserable Timothy ! 
The snow lay white upon the ground, and Tim- 
othy took long flying leaps to escape it. Occa- 
sionally he would pause to lift and flirt his feet, 
for he hated to get them wet ; besides, they 
ached with the cold. A thought struck him ; he 
would go back to the house and see if the 
spotted dog was still there ; so he crept to the 
kitchen window and peered in, and by the light 
of the fire he saw that his place was still occu- 
pied by the little dog. So off again crept mis- 
erable Timothy to the great cold lonely barn. 
He slept upon the hay, where the cold snow 
sifted down upon him, and the wind whined and 
howled over his head all night. For days Tim- 
othy stayed there ; he managed to catch a few 



44 WILD DWELLERS OF 

stray mice after a long chase, but soon his sides 
grew thin, his soft gray fur shabby and coarse 
and dark, while his eyes were furtive and sullen. 
But Timothy's proud, jealous spirit was nearly 
broken, and one night he decided to go back 
to the hearth. So he stole into the kitchen 
after everybody was asleep, and then a wonder- 
ful thing happened. 

The little spotted dog stood up and welcomed 
him, wagging his tail so hard that his whole body 
shook, and he actually greeted poor Timothy 
with a bark of joy. Then lonely Timothy, pin- 
ing for sympathy, ventured a trifle closer to the 
hearth, and the little dog sidled over to meet 
him, and actually began to lap Timothy's rough 
fur tenderly, whereupon Timothy, to show that 
he bore no further ill will, sidled and rubbed 
himself gently against the tan and white spotted 
coat of the gentle little dog. Then Timothy and 
his friend ate together from the tin plate, sat 
down upon the hearth, and Timothy began a 
whirring, buzzing song of contentment which 
might be heard even above the singing of the 
copper kettle, as he washed and scrubbed his 
neglected fur coat, making a complete and fresh 
toilet suitable for the kitchen. 

The next morning when the farmer's wife 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 45 

came into the kitchen suc-h a sight met her eyes ; 
Timothy had come back, and slept upon the 
hearth nestled quite closely to the little spotted 
dog, and they remained fast friends forever 
after. 



IV 

THE LITTLE KED DOE OF DEER PASS 

AS soon as winter really set in in the North 
country and the snow began to drift upon 
the mountains and deepen in the passes, the 
little Red Doe and her mate sought safe sanctu- 
ary with the herd, in the thick cover of Balsam 
Swamp, where the balsams and spruces grew 
dense, and there they herded together in their 
winter " yard," hidden away among the ever- 
green thickets where they fed all winter upon 
the mosses and lichens of the swamp. The herd 
would tread down the snow as it fell, and feed 
around the swamp in a circle, and when they 
had nibbled close all the moss and undergrowth, 
toward spring they would reach up and feed 
upon the tender budding shoots of soft maple 
and spruce and barks which grew overhead. 
While merciless blizzards raged all through the 
long winter, there they remained, for the deer 
always seek shelter in such a " yard," seldom 
venturing out, unless they are pressed by hunger, 
and the snow crusts are strong enough to bear 

49 



50 WILD DWELLERS OF 

their weight without breaking through, for the 
slender leg of a deer is easily snapped. 

It had been a long, bitter winter for the herd 
in Balsam Swamp, and there were so many of 
them to feed there that by spring the food sup- 
ply where they had foraged had become so scant 
that only the older, taller deer of the herd could 
reach high and pull down the tender saplings. 
Thus it happened, as is frequently the case 
through winter, that many of the young, tender 
deer died from sheer starvation, because they did 
not care to leave the " yard " and were not tall 
enough to reach high for food. 

They were all very glad, at last, when the 
first signs of spring appeared, and the bluebirds 
arrived, and the wild geese, coming back from 
the southland, went trailing over, " honk, honk- 
ing" through the mists, high over the mountains, 
in the early morning. Winter was broken at 
last, and the little Red Doe and her mate came 
out into the open forest. The mate, a fine young 
buck, with strong, pronged antlers, with which 
he fought many a battle for her, led the way, 
glad to be out in the freedom of the mountain 
passes once more, after their long retreat. Their 
sides and flanks were lean from long fasting and 
privation, but soon they were feeding upon the 



FOREST, MAKSH AND LAKE 51 

short, sprouting herbage .of the valleys. The 
maples were in bud ; food was plentiful enough 
now, and all the herd scattered, glad to be 
free. 

All summer long the Red Doe and her mate 
ranged together, care-free, through the moun- 
tains, climbing high up to the summit of Mount 
Cushman, gazing across upon other mountain 
ridges, where the tall pointed spruces stood out 
like sentinels against the sky-line. Going down 
at night into the deep solitude of the valleys, 
where the deep, purple night shadows fall early,' 
into the woodsy smell of balsam and spruce, 
which becomes doubly fragrant after dew-fall! 
Here are the deer passes, where they rest at 
night in safety. 

They were never molested in their travels, 
and should a fox or lynx cross their trail, the 
mate would bravely charge upon it with his 
strong horns, and send it slinking away into the 
shadows. And so the pair became bolder and 
tamer, and upon moonlight nights they would 
come close to the farmer's dwelling ; into the 
orchards to feed upon the early apples, and even 
find the gardens, where they did shocking work 
among the pea vines and young, tender, sweet 
-corn. Almost every evening, just at twilight, 



52 WILD DWELLERS OF 

you might see them steal forth from the spruce 
woods, cross the road together, and if they met 
a farmer, they would halt curiously to stare 
after him, heads held erect, gazing after him 
with great, gentle, inquisitive eyes, alert and 
wondering. Then, suddenly, like a flash, hav- 
ing satisfied their curiosity, they were off — over 
the stone fence together they bounded, and the 
next instant you caught just a fleeting glimpse of 
their short, white tails, held high, like a flag, 
vanishing, flashing in and out among the dark 
spruces. 

They had one favorite resting place in Deer 
Pass, where the thick pines grew close together 
in a certain deep hollow, through which a brook 
bubbled musically. Here, deep down among 
the plumy, green ferns the Red Doe and her 
mate often stayed at night. Sometimes, in the 
early morning, if you chanced to pass that way, 
you might even catch a glimpse of two beautiful 
heads upon slender necks raised above the ferns, 
and if you did not come too close to their re- 
treat, they would not offer to move. 

Midsummer came, and then there were three 
deep hollows among the sweet-scented ferns in 
their retreat, and a little spotted fawn followed 
the pair. ^Beautiful was the little creature, with 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 53 

soft, reddish-brown- coat* mottled with white 
spots, which looked like snowflakes, and such 
great, appealing, innocent eyes. The Red Doe 
and her mate were so fond of the fawn that 
they never permitted it out of their sight. Those 
were very happy days now in the deer family. 
But a change was in store for them of which 
they knew nothing. 

In the month of October comes the hunter's 
moon, and then the deer law is raised, up in 
that Northern country where the Red Doe lives ; 
and the hunters are allowed to shoot the males 
for ten days, but must not molest or shoot the 
does or their fawns. 

So when the maple leaves were red upon the 
sides of the mountains and the wild geese began 
to head for the south again, and the partridges 
to drum in the hedges, then came the hunters. 
The little Red Doe and her mate, and the fawn, 
had, by this time, become quite fearless of man, 
and almost tame, for nothing ever molested them ; 
so, with no suspicion of their great danger, they 
camped in the old spot at night, for near at hand 
were sweet, frost-bitten apples, and besides, the 
fawn was not yet old enough to follow over 
long trails through stiff mountain climbs. So 
one morning they slept late in their old resting 



54 WILD DWELLERS OF 

place, and the hoar-frost lay in little jeweled 
crystals, powdering their red coats as well as 
the ferns about them. Deep down, hidden to- 
gether, they herded, and so they failed to see the 
hunter who came creeping stealthily toward their 
retreat, dodging warily from spruce to spruce. 
With gun in hand he stole, ever creeping nearer 
and nearer to their camping-place. Was it the 
cracking of a twig at last, or did the buck catch 
the man scent? Instantly he jumped to his 
feet, antlers held high and straight, waiting to 
give the signal of warning to his mate. 

Too late. A loud report, a puff of smoke, 
and he fell, even as he gazed. In a second, the 
little Red Doe was off ; off and away, the little 
dappled fawn following after as best it might. 
But alas, when the fawn reached a section of 
barb wire fence, it leaped too short, and fell back 
entangled in the wire. Meantime, the Red Doe, 
terrified and frantic, forgetting in her great 
panic even the fawn, bounded on and on, seek- 
ing safety in the deep forest. 

When the hunter had secured his prize, the 
carcass of the buck deer, he began to follow the 
trail of the Red Doe, and soon stumbled upon 
the little helpless fawn. The little innocent 
thing knew no fear, and allowed the hunter to 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 55 

disentangle it from the wire. Then, thinking 
what a fine pet the little fawn would make for 
his children, the man carried the little creature 
home. After a time it became quite tame and 
used to the children, and so they built a small 
pen especially for it, close to the great barn. 

Lonely and alone, after this, wandered the 
little Red Doe ; all through fall she roamed, quite 
solitary, over mountains and through the passes, 
avoiding all the herd ; she would mate with none 
of them. One moonlight night she strayed into 
the vicinity of a large barn seeking corn-stalks, 
and there, to her great joy, she discovered the 
lost fawn in its pen. 

It was an easy matter, with her long, slim legs, 
for the doe to leap the fence, and soon the lonely 
mother doe was rubbing noses and fondly lap- 
ping the dappled coat of her lost baby. Again 
and again did the doe leap back and forth over 
the high board fence of the pen, vainly urging 
the fawn to follow her. But it was no use ; the 
fence was far too high ; the little fawn could not 
leap it, and so the mother doe had to go away. 

But night after night the patient Red Doe 
came back into the pen with the fawn, bound- 
ing away with the first peep of day. Away, into 
the safety of the deep spruce woods/for she was 



56 WILD DWELLERS OF 

no longer tame ; she knew the terrifying fear of 
man, at last. 

Soon winter shut down again, and the deep 
snow fell, and the visits of the little mother doe 
to her fawn became less and less frequent. 
And finally the fawn was taken into the warm 
barn, and she saw it no more. Then, the last 
time the doe failed to find her fawn, hungry 
and cold, in the midst of a great swirling snow- 
storm, she turned away, traveling wearily back 
over the old Deer Pass, over the trail to Balsam 
Swamp for shelter. 

That year the herd was large in the swamp, 
where they circled round and round, feeding 
upon anything which offered itself as food, only 
trying to keep from starving until winter should 
break up again. By early spring everything 
within reach had been nibbled bare, as usual ; 
then the stronger ones of the herd ventured out 
into the forests. The little Red Doe had lived 
through the winter, but she had fared badly, 
for she no longer had her mate to reach up, 
with his tall, antlered head, and pull down 
tender branches for her to nibble. She was very 
thin and weak as she dragged herself out of the 
"yard," aimlessly wandering, loitering, separated 
from the herd. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 57 

Night came on, and she heard the spring 
chorus of the " peepers," as they awoke, down 
in the bogs. Other night sounds came creeping 
through the great, silent places, and finally, 
close at hand, a sudden, wild, snarling yell 
echoed through the mountains. It was the cry 
of a hungry old lynx evidently out trailing 
game. The Red Doe was instantly alert. Was 
the lynx, an old enemy of the herd, trailing 
her? Then, before she knew where it came 
from, the lynx had sprung from an overhang- 
ing birch, and leaped upon her flank, burying 
its cruel teeth in her tender flesh. 

A swift bound. The doe managed to shake 
off the clinging lynx, who was old and weak 
from lack of food. And before the lynx could 
gather itself together for another spring, she 
was off. Fleet as the wind she flew but she could 
never keep up the pace for long, for she had 
not the strength now; besides, the lynx had 
wounded her badly. But with wonderful cour- 
age she bounded on and on, leaping boulders 
and rough places, until she struck at last the 
old, familiar trail which led to the old camping 
place in Deer Pass. There she sank down at 
last, between the thick spruces, into a nest of 
brown, dried bracken and young fern shoots. 



58 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Weak and spent she lay and rested the next day. 
By night she hoped to be strong enough to 
travel once more, for she must seek food. 

Small and slim over Mount Cushman arose 
the crescent moon that night, and pale little 
stars twinkled overhead, but the Red Doe was 
too weak to journey on. Then, in and out of 
the shadows, among the pointed spruces, stole a 
slim, red figure on long, slender legs, its small 
head held erect, its soft eyes expectant and 
alert. And the Red Doe heard ; she knew in- 
stinctively to whom those small, cleft hoofs, 
bounding so lightly to her over the mosses, be- 
longed. 

The Red Doe raised her slim neck with an 
effort, and peered over the tall brakes, and then 
out of the shadows, with little, eager bounds of 
joy, came her fawn. At last he had grown tall 
enough to leap the hateful pen, and all the sub- 
dued wildness of his nature had come back 
again with the return of spring, and guided by 
its instinct, the fawn had sought and found the 
old camp and his mother. 

There they stayed together in their fern bed 
until morning, and comforted and rested, al- 
most well of her wounds, the doe was able to 
travel once more. And so, just as the her- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 50 

mit thrush and bluebird started their morning 
chorus, the Red Doe and her fawn bounded off 
together, seeking new pastures in the secret 
places of the forest. 



DAME WOODCHUCK AND THE EED 
MONSTER 

T^VAME WOODCHUCK woke up early one 
J-^ Candlemas Day from her long, all winter's 
sleep. She stretched her cramped claws drow- 
sily, then waddled to the entrance of her burrow, 
and scratched and poked away the dry leaves,' 
with which she had banked up her door in the 
fall to keep out Jack Frost. Then, with the 
tip of her snout and round black ears outside 
the hole, she sniffed in a deep breath of the 
keen, frosty air. It was still cold, very, but the 
sun shone and the next minute she had cocked 
her head one side to listen, for she had heard a 
bluebird's note. 

"Po-quer-ee, po-quer-ee. Spring is here; 
what cheer ! " he piped. 

Surely if the bluebirds had arrived, then the 
Dame must be stirring ; but, unwilling to trust 
the actual announcement of spring entirely to the 
bluebird, she resolved to find out in her own 
way if spring had actually arrived. So out 

63 



U WILD DWELLERS OF 

she crawled, and mounting the great flat stone 
over her home, she sat bolt upright, her little 
black feet held tight to her breast, then took a 
long, anxious look, first over one furry shoulder, 
then the other. The Dame looked for her 
shadow ; if she failed to see it beside her, then 
she would know that spring had come, for 
always, in this way, do the woodchuck family 
predict the first arrival of spring. But if she 
should actually see her shadow over her shoul- 
der, then she knew that the snow was bound 
to blow into her burrow just exactly as far as 
the sun's shadow shone in, and that there was 
going to be six weeks more of winter weather. 
And then, in spite of the bluebirds' call, she 
would have gone right back to sleep again. 

But this time the Dame failed to see her 
shadow over her shoulder, which made her so 
happy that she gave a little sharp bark for sheer 
joy, and rushed inside the burrow to wake up 
the woodchuck Twins, and -tell them the good 
news that spring had really come for good. 
Out came the Twins, yawning and stretching 
themselves, and when they were thoroughly 
awake, they all had a grand frolic. 

Dame Woodchuck and the Twins had lived 
in their home in the middle of the clover field, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKH 65 

beneath a great rock, for .years. It was such a 
fine, safe spot for a woodchuck's burrow ; you 
would never suspect where the door was. You 
wondered too how the Dame, who was very fat, 
ever managed to squeeze herself into such a 
narrow crack beneath the flat rock. But some- 
how she did, and like a flash, too, if she saw 
danger approaching. Beneath the great rock 
ran quite wonderful passageways, which led 
into many secret chambers ; so the woodchuck 
family were never crowded for spare rooms, for 
year after year they had worked beneath the 
ground improving their home, digging with 
their little sharp claws and teeth. And best of 
all, where you never would expect it, was a 
secret passageway ; down deep, then up over a 
stone, then to the right, then through a network 
of roots it led, and the first thing you knew you 
were right out-of-doors. This was the back door 
of the Dame's burrow. 

And so if the farmer's yellow dog should take 
it into his head to stop off in the pasture and 
try to dig into the woodchuck's home, when he 
was quite busy digging at one door, why, they 
could all easily have escaped by the rear en- 
trance. 

Wild and beautiful was the country where 



6$ WILD DWELLERS OF 

Dame Woodchuck and her family lived. Clover, 
pink and sweet, covered the whole field, and 
not too far away the farmer had planted his 
beans. Beans and honey sweet clover the 
woodchucks cared for more than almost any- 
thing else in life. About sunset they would all 
crawl out, sitting up together, all three of them 
in a row, upon the flat rock at first, looking with 
contentment forth over the clover field ; then, 
suddenly, perhaps the Dame would playfully 
cuff one of the Twins, and over he would roll 
into the deep clover, and then a regular frolic 
would begin, as they nibbled among the pink 
blossoms. 

Close by in the edge of the woods a Hermit 
Thrush would often come at twilight, and sing 
his bedtime song, for the thrushes always sing 
themselves to sleep at night. And Dame Wood- 
chuck, when she heard the first note of the 
thrush, would sit bolt upright, and listen crit- 
ically while he sang his song, for it was very 
sweet and beautiful, and this is the way it went : 

" Oh— holy, holy. 
Oh — spheral, spheral. 
Oh — clear up, clear up." 

And each time the thrush sang his " Oh " he 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 67 

would sing it a bit higher, beginning first upon 
a low note. Then far off, hidden in the dark 
bushes upon the nest, the mother thrush would 
send back a long, deep " Oh." 

This little song of praise which the thrush 
sang every night meant a great deal to Dame 
Woodchuck, for she knew when the thrush 
came to the edge of the clearing and sang, then 
there could be no dangers lurking about, because 
the Hermit Thrush is so shy he would never 
sing his lullaby so near the pasture when there 
chanced to be a spy at hand. So you see what a 
safe spot the Dame had selected, and also many 
others, who lived in the edge of the woods close 
by, the gray rabbit, and the chipmunks. 

Now far across the clover field in the distance 
might be seen a long, dusty highway, which 
ran up over the hill, and from the top of the 
rock the Dame and Twins used to watch the 
farmer's teams as they crept slowly over the 
hill. They were curious about them, but then 
they never left the road, so of course there could 
be nothing to fear from them. 

But one day instead of the slow-going farmer's 
wagon, quite a different looking thing came 
tearing madly over the long road. The Dame 
and the Twins were almost paralyzed with fear 



68 WILD DWELLERS OF 

when they saw it, and sat up straight and 
watched it with bulging eyes and chattering 
teeth. It had great yellow eyes, which blazed 
in the sun ; its body was bright red, and when 
it came just opposite the clover field it gave a 
loud " honk, honk," and then the woodchuck 
family waited to see no more, but bolted straight 
for their door and inside, as quickly as possible, 
so that actually the Dame, in her mad haste, 
managed to scrape off quite a patch of deep 
brown fur from her back. 

Very shortly after this, when the woodchuck 
family were taking a moonlight stroll to the 
bean field, the same monster came rushing 
madly over the road with its yellow eyes 
agleam, almost the size of the moon. At which 
awful sight the Dame and the Twins gave up 
their bean feast and tore home as fast as they 
could, going in by the back door. 

In time, all the little wild dwellers of the 
forest near by came to know about the great red 
monster with its yellow eyes, its awful screech, 
and the odor of its fetid breath, which poisoned 
all the balsam, woodsy scents of the forest, and 
made them cough. What awful thing had come 
into their forest home and disturbed their quiet, 
peaceful homes? Even the Hermit Thrush no 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 69 

longer dared come to the edge of the clearing to 
sing her lullaby at twilight. 

One morning, before the woodchuck family 
were astir, they heard a great commotion over 
their heads. 

" Click, click, click, rattle, rattle," it sounded. 
And the Dame poked her nose out of the hole 
cautiously, and looked and stared in dismay at 
the sight before her scared eyes. A great red 
monster was being dragged over the clover field 
by the farmer's horses ; the creature had sharp, 
cruel teeth, a long, shining row of them, and 
they bit and bit through the tall clover, so that 
it fell all over the field and lay flat. In a panic 
the Dame rushed to tell the Twins, and there 
they all stayed, deep down inside the burrow all 
day long, while the red monster rattled and bit 
its way through the clover over their heads. At 
night all was still, and the woodchucks, gaining 
courage, crawled forth into the field because 
they were very hungry. But what a sight met 
their gaze! The monster was no longer there, 
and the clover was no longer there ; the field was 
quite bare. 

So the Dame and the Twins held counsel that 
night, and stealing forth, they left their old 
home, and traveled far beneath the moon. 



70 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Over swamps, and through unknown forests they 
went, until they finally reached a wild, lonely 
place beneath a mountain. Then they all set to 
work with a will and dug out a new burrow for 
themselves. To their joy they discovered that 
many of their neighbors had followed them, the 
gray rabbit, and the chipmunk family. And 
the very next evening as Dame Woodchuck 
came out to seek her supper, right overhead in 
a thick pine came the Hermit Thrush. 

"O-h, holy, holy. 
O-h, spheral, spheral. 
O-h, clear up, clear up," 

sang the thrush joyfully, for he was no longer 
afraid ; all the little wild things of the forest had 
sought safety, far away from monsters, in the 
deep wildness of the woods. And there the 
Dame and the Twins lived together happily for 
many years. 



VI 
TEACKED BY A CATAMOUNT 

TOM and Fred Kinney were driving back 
from the little mountain village, where 
they had been sent from the lumber station, up 
in the " Slash " on Mount Horrid, to buy sup- 
plies for the camp. They took this trip every 
week, their father, overseer of the camp, trust- 
ing them to drive Ted and Tot, the mule team, 
down the mountain alone. 

Mount Horrid, rightly named, is a wild spot, 
and the mountain roads leading up to the camp 
are steep and rough. One drives over this trail 
for about fourteen miles, then arrives at a pla- 
teau, and just above, on the ridge, are the 
lumbermen's shacks. 

Darkness comes very early in these northern 
mountain regions, for the sun sets beyond the 
taller mountain crags at a little after four in the 
afternoon and it is twilight almost before one is 
aware of it. Suddenly the sides of the moun- 
tains take on a deeper purple hue, then in the 
dense forests of balsam and spruce the shadows 

73 



74 WILD DWELLERS OF 

grow black and blacker, and already night has 
come down in the valleys between the ridges. 

The night bade fair to be very dark and early, 
but the boys were not afraid, for the two small 
mules knew the road well without guidance. 
They let the lines fall slack across their rough 
coats, while they munched sweet crackers, and 
talked together about the best places to set their 
new muskrat traps, which they had purchased 
in the village. 

The mules crawled leisurely up the steep 
road, stopping, as they usually did, at a steep 
pitch to get breath, then plodding on again. 
All of a sudden, without warning, they began 
to act very strangely, rearing and plunging 
about in the strangest fashion, and snorting 
with fear. 

"Say, they act funny, don't they? Wonder 
what scared 'em," remarked Tom, clutching 
the reins which had almost slipped from his 
grasp. 

" Gee," replied Fred, " do you know it's get- 
tin' awful dark ; wish we were back in camp. 
We ought to have started back sooner, not 
stayed to see that ball game," he grumbled. 
For, to tell the truth, Fred Kinney was the 
more timid and cowardly of the two. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 75 

"Oh, don't be a fraid-cat, Fred. It wasn't 
anything much that scared the mules ; perhaps 
a fox or even a porcupine crossed the road 
ahead of 'em, that's all," commented Tom, 
easily. " Look, it's going to be moonlight the 
rest of the way. Who's afraid ? I ain't. Have 
another cracker." 

The mules steadied down to their usual gait 
once more, and the boys shortly forgot their 
fears and were soon chatting away about their 
snares once again. 

But if they had only known, and could have 
peered through a thick fringe of spruces, right 
on the very edge of a long, rocky ledge, just 
above the mountain road, crouched a great, 
tawny, supple, fur-clad cat; the very largest 
catamount, or, as it is sometimes called, the 
American panther, which had ever been seen in 
those parts. The catamount had started out to 
forage as soon as the first, long purple shadows 
began to climb the mountains. He was a mag- 
nificent speciment of the cat family, a male, and 
back in his dark den, which he had made be- 
neath an almost inaccessible ledge of rocks, 
high up in the wildest part of the mountain, he 
had left a fierce, tawny mate and three kitten 
cubs. 



76 WILD DWELLERS OF 

The catamount was gaunt and half-starved 
looking, but he was also a good provider for his 
family, and when his mate stayed with the small 
cubs he carried her food ; but his nature was so 
fierce and ugly that, whenever he chanced to bring 
home a supply of food to the den, he and his 
mate always had a fierce, snarling battle over 
the choicest morsels, and their savage howls and 
yells at such times were so fearful that all the 
other smaller wild things of the forest slunk 
back timidly into their homes, lest they en- 
counter the dreaded catamount in one of his fits 
of rage. 

Now, had there simply been one small boy on 
foot, or a deer, perhaps, walking up through 
that dusky mountain road, the catamount would 
in all probability, driven by his intense hunger 
and a desire to feed his young, surely sprung 
upon him. But somehow the sight of the sturdy 
little mule team and the two figures in the 
wagon disconcerted him, so that he merely 
stretched himself out over the ledge and peered 
curiously at them as they drove beneath him. 
It was this of course which had frightened the 
mules; they had caught the wild, strong scent of 
the catamount in passing. 

The great tawny wildcat lashed its tail impa- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 77 

tiently, and licked its ban chops hungrily, at 
the mere thought of what had escaped him ; and 
then from sheer ill-temper and disappointment, 
because it had not been a deer, or something 
he could manage, he raised his angry, yellow 
eyes to the rising moon and gave a wild, blood- 
curdling yell of rage, a yell which cannot be 
described in mere words. It rose and rose, 
echoing through the dense forests of spruce, to 
be repeated back again from the other side of 
the dark mountain, ending in a horrid, whimper- 
ing wail, which reached the ears of the boys, and 
sent a chill to their very marrow ; at the same 
time the mules broke into a wild, shambling 
canter, never stopping for steep pitches even, but 
keeping up the wild gait until they had reached 
the plateau, and finally the camp. 

" Say, it was an awful yell. Didn't you folks 
hear it ? " questioned the boys breathlessly, as 
they rushed pell-mell into camp, full of their 
story. 

" And the mules were scared stiff, too, so they 
just put for camp on a dead run. Say, father, 
it must have been something pretty bad to yell 
like that and scare the mules so." 

" Catamount," spoke up old Uncle Peter 
Kinney from the chimney corner, where he was 






78 WILD DWELLERS OF 

patching a pair of moccasins. " Pair of 'em over 
Deer Pass way. Heard about 'em last week ; 
guess they got hungry an' came over the Ridge 
after deer. Good thing you boys was in the 
team, I guess. Pesky varmints, catamounts ; 
used to be pretty considerable plenty up North 
here when I was a boy ; but lumberin' scared 
'em off some, I guess. Good bounty on 'em, 
an' good money in a pelt, too, if it's right, 
son." 

" Well, father, one thing ; now there's cata- 
mounts round here, you've got to let me take 
the rifle into the woods when I want to," spoke 
Tom. " Why, if we only get the catamount, 
then I guess I could buy a rifle ; couldn't I, 
Uncle Peter ? " 

" Guess ye could, son ; but, first of all, sight 
your catamount," he chuckled. 

Winter passed away, and gradually the boys 
forgot their sudden terror of the catamount, 
although farmers down* in the valley reported 
that a pair of them had visited their barn-yards 
during winter and carried off sheep and even 
small calves, but had always got away ; so plainly 
the catamounts were still lurking in the moun- 
tains. 

One day Tom and Fred went off on the other 



FOREST, MAESH AND LAKE 79 

side of the mountain to hunt for rabbits. The 
old yellow hound accompanied them, for 
although lame and decrepit, he was still keen 
after the scent of rabbits. A certain dense thicket 
of spruces on the edge of a plateau was the desti- 
nation of the boys, because there the rabbits were 
always plentiful, the thick undergrowth forming 
a splendid cover. Although it was now early 
spring, snow still covered the ground, and the 
boys saw plenty of fresh fox and rabbit tracks. 
Tom shouldered the coveted rifle, proud in the 
assurance that he could handle it as expertly, 
almost, as his father. The boys examined 
the different tracks with keen interest, noting 
mink, deer, and the trail of other familiar wild 
things, for which they were always upon the look- 
out, being well up in wood lore. 

" What's that track, Tom ? " asked Fred, cu- 
riously, pointing to a light, skipping track in the 
snow. v 

"Deer. Say, can't you tell a deer's track, 
Fred ? Oh, look ! Something been chasing 
that deer. See those deep, round holes right 
behind? The deer was running hard, too; he 
was being chased, all right, and knew it, too. 
Wonder what it was. I don't seem to know 
those deep, round tracks." 



80 WILD DWELLERS OF 

" Say, s'pose it was a bear, Tom ? " 

" Nope. Too far apart. Whatever it was, it 
wasn't shuffling along stirring up the snow in 
long tracks, like a bear does. It took great, 
long leaps. Look there," and Tom pointed to 
the strange tracks in the snow. 

" Say, Tom, perhaps it was a catamount," an- 
nounced Fred, suddenly. 

" Why, I never thought about a catamount ; 
perhaps it was," and then Tom clutched the gun 
a trifle closer at the mere thought of that awful, 
wild yell, which he had never forgotten. 

It was growing late in the afternoon when the 
boys bagged their last brown cottontail rabbit, 
but Tom had scared up a covey of partridges, 
and eager to bag a few, the boys pressed back 
again, following the tracks of their old trail back 
through the spruces. 

" Say, Fred, did you notice our old tracks 
back there in the spruces where we branched 
off? " asked Tom, suddenly. " Well, look here. 
Here they are again ; and say, that thing, what- 
ever it is, is following us now. See its tracks 
right here again. Say, Fred, we're being 
tracked, and I believe by a catamount," ex- 
claimed Tom, excitedly. 

" What'll we do now, Tom Kinney ? Look, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 81 

it's almost past sunset now," and Fred pointed 
with slightly shaky hand at the yellow glow of 
the sunset and the fast darkening mountain- 
sides. Soon darkness would be down upon them, 
and they could not possibly go back over the 
Ridge and into camp before dark. Already they 
had tarried too long, and they knew it. For, as 
if scenting an approaching peril, the yellow 
hound suddenly lifted his muzzle and gave a 
long, dismal bay while his yellow hide arose in 
deep ridges upon his back. 

" Tell you what let's do," suggested Tom. 
" We won't try for camp ; we'll strike for Un- 
cle Peter's old, abandoned shack. It's straight 
around the ledge here. We shan't be long 
reaching it; we can make it before dark. I 
guess we don't want to be out on the mountain 
to-night with a catamount or two loose, and 
chasing us. Why, he might jump down on us 
any minute from a ledge. Canada Joe said he 
saw one jump off a terrible steep ledge once and 
land on a deer's back, and he says they never 
miss anything they jump for, either." 

Accordingly the boys made tracks for the 
shack as fast as they could travel. And sure 
enough, the catamount was not very far behind 
them, but was surely tracking them. Stealthily 



82 WILD DWELLERS OF 

following their trail without showing itself, 
creeping warily in and out between the dark 
spruces, never losing its sight of them, the soft 
" pad, pad, pad " of its round feet muffled by 
the snow, its hateful yellow eyes gleaming and 
watchful, pausing when the boys halted, and 
loping on after them as soon as they started 
again. 

The boys did not relish a whole night in Un- 
cle Peter's old shack very much, but they knew 
that their folks would not worry about them 
greatly for frequently, when they were off hunt- 
ing, they stopped off in some abandoned lumber 
camp, when they had gone too great a distance 
to reach the home camp. Ordinarily it would 
be a lark, but now they were slightly uncom- 
fortable about encountering a catamount, per- 
haps a pair of them. But as soon as they 
reached the shack their spirits rose again, for 
the shelter of a roof, be it ever so humble, lends 
courage. To be sure the old shack lacked a 
door, for some one had long ago used it for fire- 
wood. The boys gathered quantities of pine 
brush, and soon had a great fire snapping up the 
rude stone chimney of the shack, which lighted 
it from top to bottom. They dressed and broiled 
their partridges, and ate their dry bread with 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 83 

hearty, healthy appetites, forgetting, for the 
time, all about catamounts. 

But had they only known — straight out 
through the dense black cover of the spruce 
bush even now lurked and waited the great 
tawny cat, peering, peering, with its glowering 
eyes, right into the shack, simply biding its 
time, apparently, but growing every minute 
more desperately hungry and impatient to make 
an attack. 

The boys tumbled into their balsam bunks 
and were almost asleep, while their fire dwin- 
dled and burned down low. Then suddenly 
the hound gave a little warning whine, and 
slunk back into the rear of the shack, his tail 
between his legs. Instantly the boys were 
wide awake, and just then came that fearful, 
blood-curdling cry, the yell of the catamount, 
and at the same time its dark, shadowy form 
bounded past the entrance of the shack, right 
outside the doorway. The catamount was now 
not a dozen paces off. It had tracked them to 
the old shanty. 

" It's the catamount ; I saw him. Look, look, 
Tom ! There he goes again," whimpered Fred, 
suddenly stricken with terror. 

" You keep still, Fred, Pile on brush on the 



84 WILD DWELLERS OF 

fire, quick ; that's what we got to do. It'll help 
scare him away. They're awful afraid of fire," 
and desperately the two boys worked, piling 
everything inflammable upon the dying fire until 
it blazed high again. Meantime the catamount, 
startled at first by the sudden glare, withdrew, 
but soon emboldened by its hunger back it came, 
ever nearer and nearer to the doorway ; finally 
crouching just at the threshold, it made ready 
to spring. 

With quick presence of mind Tom snatched 
up a great, glowing, resinous firebrand and 
hurled it with straight, sure aim at the cata- 
mount. It struck him squarely between the 
shoulders and scorched there, for he turned 
and bit savagely at the firebrand, snarling with 
pain. 

All this time, between whiles, Tom had been 
fumbling with his gun and found, to his dis- 
may, that he had but two shots left. He loaded, 
with desperate haste, not telling Fred of his lack 
of ammunition, but bidding him to keep firing 
the brands at the catamount. 

" Now, Fred, I'm ready for him. You take 
a big firebrand in your hand, and then in case 
I miss him, let him have it straight between the 
eyes," directed Tom, and crouching low, with 




That Very Instant Tom Fired 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 87 

rifle ready, the boys waited for the catamount 
to come within range of the door. 

Vicious with its burns and hunger, they had 
not long to wait for the appearance of the cata- 
mount ; crawling, crouching low, cat-like it came, 
until it reached the door-sill of the shanty ; then 
gathering itself, it made ready to spring into the 
room. 

That very instant Tom fired. Straight be- 
tween the gleaming, yellow eyes he aimed, and 
then, with a muffled howl of surprise and pain, 
the great, tawny beast leaped high in air. his 
bound broken; with a snuffling, snarling cry 
of pain he sank down, clawing and spitting. 
Tom had surely hit and wounded him. 

" Look, look, Tom ! See ; he isn't dead yet. 
Quick, hurry and give him another shot. He's 
getting ready to jump again," shouted Fred. 
Sure enough, the catamount, now mad with pain 
from its shattered jaw, crouched for a fresh spring. 

" Bang," went the rifle, Tom's last shot. And 
when the smoke cleared there lay the cata- 
mount, quite dead. Tom was thankful enough, 
as you can well imagine, for what would have 
happened if that last shot had not taken effect? 
For no boy can handle a catamount when it is 
fierce and desperate. 



88 WILD DWELLERS OF 

The two boys were far too excited to sleep 
again that night ; besides, what if its mate 
should be hanging around somewhere ! So they 
skinned the dead catamount, and the next morn- 
ing, as soon as the first yellow rays of the rising 
sun touched the top of Mount Horrid, Fred 
loaded with the rabbits, and Tom with the rifle 
over one shoulder and the tawny hide of the 
catamount draped proudly over the other, 
tramped back over the Ridge to the home 
camp, displaying to admiring eyes the largest 
catamount pelt ever seen on the mountain. 



VII 

THE CALL OF THE MOOSE 

THROUGHOUT the dense forests of the 
great Northland the call of the moose is 
heard late in April, when the herd leave their 
winter quarters or " yard " to strike forth with 
their families into the broader, more open 
country. 

Monsall, the old King Moose of the spruce 
wood, had once more taken his proper place as 
leader of his own family. All through the 
month of March he had been quite content 
with his lot, and as timorous and helpless as 
any cow moose in the herd. This was simply 
because it was the season of shedding ; his great 
branching horns were gone, and the newly 
sprouting ones were still in their "velvet" 
stage, so that they would have been of no pos- 
sible service to Monsall in battle. 

But now his horns were gradually hardening, 
and with the return of his shorn strength all 
the bold, domineering nature of the King had 
returned to him, and he was glad. 

" Ugh-ugh-waugh, o-o," he called to his mate 
91 



92 WILD DWELLERS OF 

loudly and commandingly, and with his heavy 
antlers held proud and high he shambled trium- 
phantly away. Blazing a wide, clear trail as he 
traveled through the thick bush, he led his 
timorous mate afar in the direction of new feed- 
ing grounds where beech and moose-wood bark 
were green and plentiful, and the forest pools 
full of water. 

The call of the moose once heard, is seldom 
forgotten. It begins with a series of hoarse 
grunts or groans and winds up with a roar 
which booms and echoes through the most 
secret places of the forest, striking terror to the 
timid. Monsall, the King, was huge and un- 
gainly. His great, powerful body would easily 
weigh over a thousand pounds, and his now 
towering antlers, when grown, would measure 
fully five or six feet from tip to tip. His coarse 
coat of brownish hair was now shabby, but he 
wore a fine, bristling mane of black hair, and a 
flowing beard of the, same depended from his 
chin, which served to make* his huge head 
appear twice its length. Fierce and bold was 
the King, keen in his likes and dislikes, but 
usually rather gentle with his mate in his fierce 
way, and he would do battle for her until he fell 
rather than own up beaten. 



FOEEST, MARSH AND LAKE 93 

The pair went crashing. onward, making their 
way toward the distant waterways and marshes. 
Long before you heard the crashing of the 
underbrush you knew, if you were experienced 
in wood-lore, that moose were on the trail, 
because the moose when it travels has a way of 
striking its hoofs together with a sharp, clicking 
sound like the striking of castanets, and the 
sharp sound heralds their coming. But for all 
the moose is himself noisy, he is perhaps the 
very keenest one in the forest to detect the ap- 
proach of an intruder, for he readily takes alarm 
at the mere cracking of a twig. 

Seeking a deep pool where lily-pads had 
already begun to spread upon the water, the 
pair took to the pool and plunged their great, 
velvety muzzles deep down into its muddy 
depths, dragging forth great mouthfuls of the 
water plants and their roots, and browsing con- 
tentedly together for hours. After the scant 
fare of the abandoned " yard " how good the 
lucious, succulent fare tasted to them. 

Thus for weeks Monsall and his mate jour- 
neyed, until one day the cow moose deliberately 
deserted him, and hunt as he might, so cleverly 
had she concealed herself, he could not find her. 
She did not leave the hidden, mossy covert for 



94: WILD DWELLERS OF 

days, for any length of time, and when she did, 
it was simply because, nearly wild from the 
stings of the black fly, which now swarmed in 
the woods, she sought water where she might 
stand to rid herself of her tormentors. 

She hoped to find some near-by pool, but in 
vain ; all the shallow, near at hand waterways 
wete dried out, and she traveled long before she 
found a deep pool. She was very nervous and 
anxious to get back to the secret covert, for she 
had left behind her a baby moose. Wise was 
the cow to hide the little one from its fierce 
parent, Monsall. For so fiercely selfish or jeal- 
ous does the male moose become, that some- 
times for sheer ugliness he will trample out the 
life of a very young moose. 

When the mother moose came to the pool at 
last, she gave a long grunt or sigh of relief and 
sank deep down beneath the grateful water, 
leaving just the tip of her muzzle and furry ears 
above the surface. The black flies, which had 
stung her until she was nearly mad, left her 
burning flesh and arose in a scum upon the 
water. So relieved and full of content was the 
mother moose that she almost forgot about the 
little furry fellow whom she had left back there 
jn the secret covert. And so it chanced that a 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 95 

lumberman and his boy, who had been following 
a forest trail, came upon the covert and found 
the little moose. Lonely, and no doubt wanting 
its mother, it had stolen out into the forest upon 
its long awkward legs, and stood exactly on the 
trail when the man spied it. 

Thus it happened that when the mother moose 
came shambling hastily back to her baby, utter- 
ing little rumbling calls deep down inside, just 
to let it know she was on the way back to it, she 
found the secret covert quite empty. For weeks 
she crashed wildly through the forest, calling it 
vainly ; only her own lonely bellow echoed back 
to her straining ears, while afar off, in quite 
another direction, in the distant lumber camp 
the boy was learning to love the little moose, 
and had built it a rough shelter and yard not 
far from the lumbermen's shacks, lest it stray 
away, and he lose his pet. 

In early autumn the mother finally gave up 
her fruitless search for the calf. Soon the herd- 
ing time would be at hand, snows would fly, 
and then each family would seek the " yard " 
once more, and herd there through the winter. 
Overcome now with sudden loneliness — for 
already the hills were red with autumn tints; 
very soon after, up in the North Country, the 



96 WILD DWELLERS OF 

first snow flies — the mother moose began to long 
for companionship, and so she began to haunt 
the old moose trails once more, and often send 
out her long-drawn, pleading call for her lost 
mate. 

" Ugh-ugh-waugh, o-o-o " she bellowed, racing 
through the dark aisles of the tall spruces, whose 
far-away tops seemed to touch the blue sky. 

One day, when she had almost given up her 
search, a loud, booming challenge, an answer to 
her call, came from a long distance away. Even 
then Monsall, the old King, was on his way to 
her and she was glad. 

Now when the King Moose hears the pleading 
call of his lost mate, and makes up his mind 
that he will join her, should anything interfere 
with his plans, or hinder him in his travels to 
her, he is instantly on the war-path, and a most 
dangerous, terrifying foe for any one to meet. 
So when the old King Moose had raised his 
great antlered head, and after listening patiently, 
thought he had located the call of his mate, he 
was soon on his way to join her. Again came 
to him her welcoming call, oh, miles across the 
country, through forest and over mountain ; but 
in spite of the long distance, Monsall had recog- 
nized her call, and he was coming. 



FOEEST, MAKSH AND LAKE 97 

Just as he had drawn in his breath to send 
out a mighty answering call, even before the 
echoes of his mate's cry had fairly died out 
from afar off, in quite another direction, came 
the unmistakable answer of a rival moose. 
Instantly the old King was angry and alert. 
What rival was trying to call his mate away 
from him? Whirling indignantly about in his 
tracks, his great antlers thrown well back upon 
his black, bristling mane, Monsall charged madly 
off in the direction of the rival call. 

Time after time his mate wailed forth her call 
to him, and each time a reply came from the 
rival moose. The great lumbering hulk of the 
King tore wildly through the forest, felling 
saplings, and racing over giant tree trunks with 
no effort whatever, so wild with jealousy and 
full of rage was he, and at every new call of the 
strange moose his anger increased. His small 
eyes gleamed redly, and his heavy breath rushed 
like steam from an engine through his great 
distended nostrils, while his heavy jaws crashed 
together like the fall of a woodman's axe, as he 
ran blindly on. 

Hours he ran ; he would find and settle with 
this stranger who still sent his hateful bellow 
from afar, this rival who dared signal his own 



98 WILD DWELLERS OF 

mate. His great antlers were now so terribly 
strong that he feared no other moose in the 
forest. Gradually he drew nearer the rival's 
hiding-place, or haunts ; for the bellow was 
nearer and nearer. It was night when the King 
Moose reached the end of the trail, which led 
him into the lumber camps ; but he had no fear 
of man now, so keen was he after revenge, and 
to lock antlers with his rival ; only, somehow, 
that rival's bellow did not sound as loud or as 
challenging as his own. Surely his foe would 
be an easy one to rout. 

The lumbermen had long ago gone to sleep in 
their shacks ; they retire early, for their work 
begins at sunrise, and so the camp-fires smol- 
dered, and it seemed like a deserted village, as 
Monsall halted right outside the slash or clearing, 
and stood stock-still to get his bearings, trying 
to gain sight of his rival. But no proud, antlered 
form rushed forth to do battle with Monsall. 
All was still ; even the boy had been asleep for 
hours. He had given his pet moose its supper 
inside the yard, where he always fed it, had 
stroked and fondled its long furry ears, and the 
little moose had rubbed its clumsy, velvety 
muzzle affectionately over the boy's body, and 
allowed him to fit a rough sort of harness over 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 99 

its body ; for the boy was planning to train the 
young moose to carry him upon its back. The 
creature had now become so tame that it readily 
followed the boy all about camp, and was a great 
pet. 

So wrapped in sleep was the camp they paid 
no attention whatever to the strange noises and 
calls of the young moose through the night. In 
fact they had become quite accustomed to his 
rather queer attempts to bellow, so were not 
disturbed by the sound. For hours the young 
moose had been restless, sending out call after call 
from his yard, each call becoming more sustained 
and carrying wider as the young moose gained 
experience with his new gift. 

So, while the fires burned low and red, into 
the camp came a great, shambling, hulking 
black figure ; it left the fringe of protecting 
spruce bush somewhat warily ; its great nostrils 
puffed across the smoldering fires, and sent the 
floating ashes whirling. Then it began to circle 
about the camp, drawing steadily nearer and 
nearer the moose pen. 

"Ugh-ugh, waugh, oo," called the young 
moose, not very loudly or clearly, and as the 
sound came to Monsall he stood a second, then 
charged with raised antlers for the yard. Again 



100 WILD DWELLERS OF 

the call, and this time the old King strained his 
great ears, perhaps catching a familiar note in 
the little moose call. Somehow it seemed to 
him not to be the loud, insolent bellow which 
he had followed and longed to do battle with 
its owner the moment he met. Then a strange 
thing occurred ; instead of replying in his 
usual savage roar when he met an enemy, Mon- 
sall dropped his antlers gently and gave a 
gentle, unexpected low, which rumbled kindly, 
deep down inside his giant hulk, and meant 
only peace and reassurance to the little moose. 

Then, through the darkness a great antlered 
head lifted itself over the high board enclosure 
where the young moose stood, timidly waiting 
he knew not what. Two velvety muzzles met 
over the barrier, the old King found and recog- 
nized one of his kindred ; his own stray calf. 

The lumbermen still slept on, and so they 
failed to hear the disturbance in camp and the 
crash which followed when the sharp, impatient 
hoofs of the King Moose tore down the board 
prison which separated him from his lost one, 
and gave it freedom — the freedom of the woods. 

The old King and the little furry moose stood 
hesitatingly close to the dying camp-fires, Mon- 
sall to get his lost bearings, the little one wait- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 101 

ing. Just then from far off came another long, 
pleading call, the mother moose calling again 
for her mate. Then the old moose lifted his 
antlers proudly, and a great and mighty chal- 
lenge echoed through the camp and rang its 
way far over the pine trees to his mate. The 
great shambling figure of Monsall the moose 
took the trail once more, while close behind, 
right through the way which the old King 
blazed for him, followed the little one ; they 
had heard and were following the call of the 
moose back into the forest. 



THF 




m 



^# 








^4i 




*-^? 



VIII 
THE LAST WOLF OF THE PACK 

GRAY COAT, leader of the great Timber 
Wolf Pack, originally came from the wilds 
of Northern Canada, where the dense forests 
form safe shelter and cover for deer, bear, the 
red fox, and all the wild kindred who seek the 
silent places of the woods, far away from man. 
But one year lumbermen entered the forest with 
their whirring saws, and felling the tall pines, 
let in light into the dark places and uncovered 
their trails. The wolf pack was tracked and 
gradually thinned out and scattered, and Gray 
Coat, the big, brave leader of the pack, one day 
realized that he was just one solitary, lonely old 
wolf roaming the forests alone. 

Gray Coat always seemed to lead a charmed 
sort of life, for no matter how skilfully traps 
were laid for him he never ventured into one of 
them, no matter how pressing his hunger might 
be. Often, nowadays, he would starve for days 
because he hated the whine of the lumbermen's 
saws, and they had frightened away the young 

105 



106 WILD DWELLERS OF 

deer, so that no longer did they come in early 
morning and at dewfall to water at the old 
pool. Already ferns grew rank and untrodden 
over the old deer trails, and although Gray Coat 
watched and prowled about their old haunts, he 
never caught sight of even one red coat or flash- 
ing white tail. 

At last the sides of Gray Coat began to show 
hollowly, gaunt and thin, and his coat became 
rough and shabby, a starved, baffled look 
gleamed in his sullen, green eyes, and his long, 
usually fleet legs were weak from fasting and 
often played him strange tricks ; for sometimes 
when he chased a cottontail, because he had be- 
come reduced to such small fare, instead of the 
coveted tidbit, his lean, cruel jaws clicked to- 
gether upon emptiness ; he had somehow just 
missed the rabbit. Then Gray Coat instinctively 
knew that something strange and unusual had 
happened to him. 

One night, too weak and lonely and disheart- 
ened to even start off trailing game, he sat soli- 
tary and unhappy just in the edge of a pine 
slash and lifting up his voice he howled and 
howled at the moon which looked coldly down 
upon his misery. It is during the winter that 
the wolves herd* together, traveling in packs, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 107 

but in spring they separate and mate. But 
although Gray Coat longed for companionship, 
there seemed to be no mate for him, for all his 
kindred had been hunted away from the old 
haunts. Had Gray Coat only been human, he 
would have wept bitterly ; as he was only a 
wolf, he just sat all hunched up together, his 
lean snout low between his haunches, only lift- 
ing up his head to send his long howl through 
the woods. 

Then somewhere, after a little silence, a very 
welcome sound came through the moonlit woods, 
the long, familiar cry of a wolf. 

" Ah-h-o-o-o-oo, Ah-h-o-o-o-oo," it wailed 
through the long dusky corridors of the pines. 
And the next instant Gray Coat forgot all his 
troubles and, leaping to his feet, with all his 
strength he sent back a loud-quavering howl 
of command and pleading. 

" Ah-h-o-o-o-oo ! " To his joy, back came an 
answering cry, followed by a series of short, re- 
assuring calls which sounded like sweetest music 
to poor, lonely Gray Coat. Each time the calls 
sounded a trifle nearer, and soon his sharp ears 
caught the swift sound of a " pat, pat, pat " 
upon the bedded pine-needles, and through the 
moonbeams came swiftly a welcome gray shadow. 



108 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Gray Coat had found a mate. After they had 
nosed each other over, dog-fashion, and snarled 
together with snapping jaws, as is the wolf way 
of introduction, the two gray wolves, last of a 
great pack which had once roamed through the 
Canadian forests, trotted off together. 

Silver Sides, the young wolf, was not starved 
looking or shabby of coat as her mate, and in- 
stinctively sensing his hunger, she led him to 
the remains of a deer carcass, and snarling 
together, they finished it. Then, with all his 
old, strong courage come back to him, Gray 
Coat took the lead, as he always had done, and 
together they ran on and on through the woods. 
For days and nights the pair traveled, just two 
fleet gray shadows, slipping through the silent 
places of the forest; skulking warily, they 
avoided the man scent, but always keeping 
together, for, by common consent, they were 
now making for a strange, new country and 
fresh hunting grounds. t 

But in one thing they had erred ; instead of 
striking off farther north into the well-nigh im- 
passable wild forests, where the lumbermen had 
not entered, and where they might have found 
plenty of game, and others of their kindred, 
they were traveling south, each day drawing 



FOKEST, MARSH AND LAKE 109 

nearer and nearer civilization, and, if they kept 
on, they would soon reach the Green Mountain 
country. Finally they came to the edge of a 
great swamp ; its dense growth of dark balsams 
and spruces promised them a safe retreat, and 
surely, in such a wilderness, game would be 
plentiful once more, for not a trace of man 
could they detect. Little cottontail rabbits 
they saw in plenty, but, as time wore on, both 
the appetites of Gray Coat and his mate de- 
manded wilder fare than mere rabbits. In vain 
they ranged together over the deer passes ; the 
hunters had frightened away most of the wilder 
game. So, in desperation, the two wolves each 
day began to grow bolder and bolder, and even 
ventured down into the valleys beneath the 
mountains, forgetting their fear of man ; soon 
they commenced to raid the farmers' sheep pens, 
and dragged away young calves to their retreat 
in the swamp. Then, as they were unmolested, 
they actually crossed the traveled highways at 
night, and often sent their long, wailing yells 
through the forests, until the villagers began to 
wonder what it all meant, because the wolf cry 
had not been heard in that section for years and 
years. 

One farmer finally lost so many sheep he sat 



110 WILD DWELLERS OF 

up nights to watch. And one moonlight night 
he saw the pair, Gray Coat and Silver Sides, 
come skulking like shadows from behind the 
granary. Quickly the farmer blazed away with 
his old flint-lock rifle, but he had not killed, 
only wounded one of the wolves and it got away, 
leaving a bloody trail of footprints behind. 

Gray Coat had been hit and so badly lamed 
in one leg that he just managed to crawl back 
to the swamp before sunrise, and seeking shelter 
among the friendly spruces he lay there help- 
lessly licking his wound. 

As soon as the farmer realized that wolves 
were actually prowling around nights, he im- 
mediately set to work to trap them. But no 
trap could he find that would hold a wolf, so he 
invented a great drop trap, using the strong 
door of the granary for a fall. He then baited 
the trap with tempting fresh meat and waited 
for the wolves to come again. 

Down in the swamp, Gray Coat, sullen and 
ugly because of his lame leg, saw Silver Sides 
go off alone in the moonlight, night after night. 
He tried to follow her, for pangs of hunger were 
gnawing him, but his leg remained far too lame 
and stiff to travel upon, and so with a snarl of 
baffled rage he watched bis mate slip off through 



FOKEST, MAKSH AND LAKE 111 

the dark pines. Finally -one night Gray Coat 
watched and waited impatiently for her to return. 
Would she find game, and perhaps bring him 
back a bone, as she sometimes did? At the 
mere thought his hunger seemed every instant 
to become more and more pressing, and 
the fever of his wound made him mad with 
thirst. Finally he dragged himself to a water 
hole, down in between the swamp tussocks, and 
lapped and lapped the green, scum-covered water. 
Then crawling wearily back to his retreat beneath 
a sheltering spruce, he waited and longed for 
Silver Sides to come back to him. All that night 
and the next day Gray Coat waited, but in vain ; 
she did not return to him. Again the moon 
rose over the dark mountains, and filtered down 
into the swamp, and then, much to his relief, he 
tried his lame leg and found it stronger and 
better, so that he managed to spring out and 
catch an unsuspecting rabbit. Making a hasty 
meal, for he was so hungry he couldn't very 
well do anything else, he then struck off through 
the thick spruces, following eagerly the trail 
of his mate. 

Once or twice, in his haste, he lost the scent, 
then he would run hither and thither with little 
baffled whines, his muzzle close to the ground as 



112 WILD DWELLERS OF 

he made wide detours, circling ever wider and 
wider, round in a circle, until he struck the lost 
trail once more. It led him through devious 
ways down into the valley, straight to the 
farmer's sheep pen. Skulking warily in and 
out among the buildings, Gray Coat soon struck 
a keener scent, which led him straight to the 
trap. Strangely enough, the trap was not set, 
and as Gray Coat came creeping nearer and 
nearer, he found the heavy door dropped down. 
Baffled by this, he began to scratch frantically, 
digging and tearing around and beneath the trap 
with his sharp nails at the heavy door, for he 
certainly thought, by the strong scent, that 
Silver Sides must be back of the door. He gave 
little, whimpering, reassuring whines to her as 
he dug, just to let her know he was there, but 
received no reply from her. At last when his 
nails were nearly worn down to the quick, he 
stopped his furious digging. He was completely 
baffled ; because, if she, were back of the dropped 
door, she would surely have answered him. 
Then, suddenly, his miserable green eyes chanced 
to light upon a tuft of familiar looking gray fur ; 
he sniffed at it eagerly. Yes, it surely belonged 
to his mate. Gray Coat tossed about this bit of 
fur, playing with it as a kitten does a feather, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 113 

but he gained no response from the tuft of fur. 
Next instant he began to act like a crazy creature, 
racing madly in and out between the barns, for 
he had all at once caught a fresh, new clue. 
Following the new scent, it led him out behind 
a great red barn, and there it ended, for nailed 
against the barn door his despairing eyes saw 
and recognized the well-known but empty pelt 
of Silver Sides, his mate. Its plumy gray brush 
waved softly back and forth over the red barn 
door as if sending him greeting. 

Gray Coat stood upon his long hind legs 
and tried to reach it with his snout. In vain ; 
he received no welcoming snap from the empty 
jaws of the familiar pelt. Then, sitting down 
upon his lean haunches, Gray Coat lifted his 
head and sent such along, wailing cry of despair 
and loneliness through the night that the farmer 
awoke and, grabbing his gun, started to hunt for 
the wolf. 

But Gray Coat, having gained no response 
from the limp pelt upon the barn door, had left 
the barn-yard before the farmer got there. 

Back on a great bare hill he sat, overlooking 
the now hateful valley, and trying to reason out 
in wolf fashion what it all meant. Soon, how- 
ever, he had made up his mind — a time for 



114 WILD DWELLERS OF 

action had come to Gray Coat ; and lifting his 
head once more to the moon, he gave one last 
long cry, because of his lost mate. Then swiftly, 
like a gray shadow, he leaped away — for he had 
a long road to travel, because this time his 
instinct headed him in the right way, straight 
for the North Lands, where he would strike old 
familiar trails, fresh hunting grounds, and his 
kindred. 




TIE 



1AICI 



IX 

HOW UNK-WXJNK THE PORCUPINE MET HIS 
MATCH 

IN the thick cover of the spruces, down in a 
natural hollow, where it was dark and still, 
and the fragrant boughs swept the ground, form- 
ing a perfect little bower, or tent, lived a very 
interesting family, Father and Mother Porcupine 
and their three young ones. So very young 
were the little porcupines, or hedgehogs, as they 
are sometimes called, that they resembled 
neither cubs nor kittens, but at first sight looked 
not unlike homely young crows before the pin- 
feather age ; for when the little hedgehog is born, 
he is strange looking enough, his quilly armor 
being covered with a transparent skin ; and 
besides, he is totally deaf and blind, and very 
helpless. 

It did not take long, however, for quills to 
poke through the skin covering, and then sight 
came to the small, piggy eyes, and the little ones 
began to look more like porcupines. One fine 
day the wanderlust seized Father Porcupine, and 

117 



118 WILD DWELLERS OF 

off he strolled into the deep woods, and was 
never seen again. He had deliberately deserted 
his little family beneath the green tent, which 
is not at all an uncommon occurrence in hedge- 
hog circles. 

The little ones were quite often left alone now 
to shift for themselves, for their mother also took 
to wandering, and so one night when she had 
been gone all day, upon her return she found 
two of them missing. In the early twilight a 
stealthy, sinuous stranger had entered her 
home ; just two little protesting squeaks came 
from beneath the hedgehog tent, and when the 
weasel left, only Unk-Wunk, the largest of the 
little ones, was left. 

" Unk-Wunk, Unk-Wunk," grunted the lonely 
little hedgehog to his mother, as she peered in 
at him with her little dull eyes through the 
curtain of balsams, her cold manner showing no 
emotion whatever, for such is the nature of the 
hedgehog tribe that thay rarely show much 
feeling over anything, no matter how tragic. 

Now Unk-Wunk would never have escaped 
from the sharp teeth of the sly weasel had not 
his quills been longer and sharper than his un- 
fortunate brothers. He had heard their terrified 
squeaks, and when the weasel made for him, he 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 119 

simply backed away, and for the first time in his 
life made use of his quill armor. 

"Unk-Wunk, Unk-Wunk," he grunted 
fiercely, while the weasel glared at him sav- 
agely with its hateful, little red eyes. The 
weasel thought to himself, no doubt, what a 
silly, helpless thing you are to grunt at me so 
boldly. Who's afraid of your stupid " Unk- 
Wunk?" But the weasel soon found out his 
mistake, and backed out in haste from the 
hedgehog tent, his sly, pointed snout stuck full 
of cruel barbs, which it took him days to rub 
out, and taught him such a lesson that, ever 
after that, he never cared to cross the track of a 
hedgehog, and would frequently make a long 
detour whenever he chanced to spy one along 
the forest trails. 

Unk-Wunk being of a particularly bold, in- 
dependent nature, his mother soon left him, and 
went off to live with a colony of hedgehogs who 
had located their camp on a distant ledge. But 
somehow Unk-Wunk tarried in the old tent, for 
he loved the fragrant balsam scent, where over- 
head, when autumn came, the beech leaves 
turned golden yellow, and the brown nuts came 
rattling down in showers to his very door. Be- 
sides, just a short stroll away lay the marsh 



120 WILD DWELLERS OF 

pools, threaded thick with succulent lily roots, 
considered, by the hedgehog tribe, the very 
daintiest eating to be had. All this lay close at 
hand, and as Unk-Wunk was naturally a lazy, 
indolent fellow, and did not care to hurry, or 
take unnecessarily long journeys, no wonder the 
place suited him. 

Never, perhaps, had there been such an abso- 
lutely fearless hedgehog as young Unk-Wunk, 
because his first great success in driving off the 
sly old weasel had taught him the use of his 
quills, and made him unafraid of anything in the 
forest, whether it wore fur or feathers. He ac- 
tually never bothered himself to get out of their 
very tracks, but would just stand looking very 
stupid indeed, and stare at them coldly with his 
little, dull eyes ; if they presumed to come too 
near he would raise his armor and utter threaten- 
ing grunts at them, so that usually they passed 
him by. 

At twilight, when the old hoot owl, who 
nested above him in the beech tree, came out 
upon a limb and began to send out his weird call, 
and the hermit thrushes called to each other 
across the marsh-lands, then Unk-Wunk would 
lazily uncurl himself from an all day snooze, 
and leisurely stroll off through the silent places 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 121 

of the forest looking for a meal. When it began 
to grow frost}^ in the lowlands, and the nights 
were cooler, he covered longer distances in his 
raids, and even ventured into the lumber camps, 
gnawing his way through intervening boards of 
the shacks and sampling fat bacon, which he 
found so good that he would travel long dis- 
tances to taste it. He stole eggs, too, and would 
manage one so deftly that he rarely spilled a 
drop of the golden contents, for he had a nice 
way of cracking a small place in the shell at the 
top, and inserting his tongue, or small paw, and 
never losing a morsel, leaving behind him just 
a pile of empty shells. 

Strangely enough, the lumbermen's yellow 
hound, when he heard the steady " gnaw, gnaw, 
gnaw " of Unk-Wunk's sharp teeth through the 
shack flooring, would simply raise his head and 
utter little timorous, muffled whines under his 
breath, never offering to drive him away ; if the 
truth were known the yellow dog was terribly 
afraid of Unk-Wunk. He would not hesitate 
to bay fiercely, chase a fox, coon, or even a bob 
cat, but once he had returned to camp with his 
jowls stuck full of Unk-Wunk's terrible quills, 
and after that he played the coward whenever 
he saw a hedgehog. 



122 WILD DWELLERS OF 

When you studied Unk-Wunk carefully, you 
might think him a very stupid, dull-looking 
animal. But back of his ugly, half-witted skull 
lay an alert brain, what there was of it. He 
dearly loved to play a joke, and for sheer sport 
would roll himself up into a ball and lie stupidly 
in one of the well-worn trails of the wood peo- 
ple ; unsuspectingly, they would creep nearer 
and nearer the queer looking bundle. Then 
Unk-Wunk's dull eyes, peering out at them, 
perhaps, from beneath his hind leg, would 
sparkle with malice, and, like a flash, out would 
fly his tail, which held the very sharpest, most 
penetrating quills on his body. Then the cu- 
rious one would usually go squeaking off on a 
jump, very much wiser than it had been before 
concerning the hedgehog family. 

One autumn evening Unk-Wunk visited the 
marsh pool ; his desire for a feast of lily roots, 
before the pool froze over, was keen upon him. 
To his dismay he found the pool already occu- 
pied by the blue heron family who were wad- 
ing about upon their long, stilt-like legs for 
minnows or crawfish. Unk-Wunk realized well 
enough that he would be at the mercy of the 
herons' long, sword-like beaks once he entered 
the water, so he just stood behind the shelter of 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 123 

a spruce bush and thought out a plan to get rid 
of the herons, and have the pool to himself. 

Waddling clumsily back into the deep woods, 
Unk-Wunk found a bed of dry beech leaves, and 
then deliberately laying himself down among 
them, he rolled his spiky body back and forth 
among them until every quill held a leaf; he 
was completely coated over with dry leaves, so 
that even his head was concealed. Then he 
crept warily back toward the pool and suddenly 
uttering a loud " Unk-Wunk, Unk-Wunk," he 
appeared right in plain view of the herons. Or- 
dinarily the sight of a mere stupid hedgehog 
would never have stirred the wise herons, and 
they would simply have flown at him, flapping 
their great wings in his face, and sent him off. 
But as soon as they caught a glimpse of the 
strange appearing thing, all covered with leaves, 
and heard it actually cry out, with shrill, terri- 
fied screams they all spread their wings and flew 
off over the mountain, perfectly panic-stricken 
at the strange thing they had seen. It did not 
take the sly Unk-Wunk long to rid himself of 
the leaves, and plunge into the pool which he 
now had all to himself. 

Now among the kindred of the wild Red- 
Brush, the Fox, is reckoned as the wisest of the 



124 WILD DWELLERS OF 

wise. Still, in spite of his reputation for wisdom, 
he too had once been an easy mark for Unk- 
Wunk. In his travels Red-Brush was wont to 
seek his prey in all manner of curious places. 
He never failed to investigate hollow logs along 
the trail, for times without number he had run 
across an apparently vacant log, and discovered it 
to be occupied by a rabbit or some other easy prey. 

Unk-Wunk had feasted well. A covey of 
partridges had strayed to his very door after 
beechnuts, and he had chanced to come home 
just in time to catch them. In vain did the 
brave little cock partridge drum at him, trying 
to mislead Unk-Wunk and turn his attention 
away from the mother partridge and her little 
brood, which scattered like fallen beech leaves 
in all directions. Unk-Wunk simply stood still 
and let the father Partridge bluster until he had 
become more emboldened by the seeming passiv- 
ity of the hedgehog, which did not offer to mo- 
lest him, and foolishly drew nearer, drumming 
in his very face, and so fell an easy prey to sly 
Unk-Wunk. After his feast all he desired was 
a safe, quiet spot to take a nap in. A hollow 
beech log lay conveniently at hand, and inside 
this Unk-Wunk crawled. 

" Pat, pat, pat," came Red-Brush the crafty 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 125 

one, swinging jauntily over the trail, even be- 
fore Unk-Wunk had a chance to close his eyes. 
They had sighted the fox, however, long before 
he arrived at the log, and instantly Unk-Wunk 
changed his position inside the log. Turning 
about he took care to leave the mere tip of his 
tail showing from the entrance. Then, with his 
little dull eyes twinkling, grunting softly to 
himself over the cruel joke he would play upon 
sly Red-Brush, Unk-Wunk waited for him. 

Red-Brush advanced very cautiously. Ah, 
surely something had moved inside the entrance 
of the log. Soon the inquisitive yellow eyes 
were close to the opening. A sudden swift slap, 
and Unk-Wunk had played his joke. He 
grunted derisively as the fox tore off back to his 
burrow with a snout full of terrible quills. 

Everybody knows that in an actual trial of 
wits the fox might really outwit a hedgehog. 
Humiliated enough was Red-Brush at the mean 
joke which Unk-Wunk had played upon him, 
and made up his mind, fox fashion, that he 
would one day get even with him. At last he 
took to dodging the trail of Unk-Wunk, hoping 
to catch him napping, for he had conceived a 
plan. The longed-for opportunity came at last. 
Chancing to stroll to the pool, the fox concealed 



126 WILD DWELLERS OF 

himself in a leafy thicket to wait for game, 
which often came to the pool, and peering out 
from behind the rushes whom should he see but 
Unk-Wunk grubbing for lily roots. The sly 
fellow finished his feast, and so gorged himself 
with his favorite delicacy that instead of going 
home he settled himself at the top of a hill, just 
above the pool, for a nap. 

The golden eyes of Red-Brush never left him ; 
he bided his time until the hedgehog was fast 
asleep, then stole softly to the top of the hill. 
Unk-Wunk lay curled there in a round ball, 
and Red-Brush, with a swift blow of his paw, 
started the ball rolling swiftly down-hill. Unk- 
Wunk would uncurl himself before he reached 
water, for this they always do ; with a bound 
Red-Brush reached the pool ahead of the ball, 
and just as Unk-Wunk gave a swift twist of his 
body to uncurl, the jaws of Red-Brush snapped 
together with a click, finding the unprotected 
throat of the hedgehog, and Unk-Wunk, the 
cruel joker, had at last met his match. 




TIE GHOSP 



THE GHOST OF THE WAINSCOT 

A LITTLE wire cage stood in a certain shop- 
J-*. window, and in it were two white mice, 
the funniest little fellows, with snow-white fur 
coats and pink, trembly noses, having long, silky, 
white whiskers, and eyes like tiny red jewels! 
All the school children had a way of stopping 
on their way to and from school to visit the 
white mice. They would stand close to the 
great glass window, pressing their noses quite 
flat against the pane, as they watched with 
delight the funny capers of the white mice, Fluff 
and Muff, for thus the children had named them. 
Fluff was the larger mouse, and he would spend 
hours whirling about in the small wire wheel, 
going so swiftly at times that all the children 
could make out was just a round ball of white 
fur revolving in space. 

The wheel had a way of creak, creak, creak- 
ing merrily whenever Fluff whirled very fast, 
and, to tell the truth, this creaking was not 

129 



130 WILD DWELLERS OF 

wholly unmusical ; and it had such a queer 
effect upon Muff, who apparently had an ear 
for music, that she would instantly commence a 
giddy sort of dance, all by herself, whirling 
madly around to the strange accompaniment of 
the creaking wheel just so long as Fluff kept up 
the music. All day long the two white mice 
frolicked together, only nestling down for short 
naps in their white cotton wool bed when they 
were quite exhausted. All this was entertain- 
ing to the children, who never wearied watch- 
ing their antics. But one morning when they 
stopped at the great window, as usual, there was 
no wire cage with white mice in its customary 
place between the glasses of pickled limes and 
lollipops ; in fact, the mice were gone. 

So one boy, somewhat braver than the rest, 
volunteered to go into the shop and find out 
what had become of their favorites ; indeed, if 
the truth were known, this boy had been saving 
up his pennies for a week in hopes that he 
might finally have enough to buy the white 
mice. Just as soon as he entered the shop he 
knew something dreadful had happened, even 
before he asked the shopkeeper, for right upon 
the counter lay the wire cage, broken and bent, 
its door gone, and the whirling wheel wrenched 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 131 

from its socket. The man told him that the 
cat had done it ; had been shut into the store 
over night by mistake. So the boy, feeling 
very sad, just bought lollipops for his money, 
instead of saving up any longer for the mice, 
and went to school. 

Now this is actually what did happen the 
night before, only the shopkeeper knew nothing 
about it, of course. When the great wooden 
shutters had been put up for the night, and all 
lights put out in the shop, it became very dark 
and still ; to be sure the tortoise-shell cat had 
skulked between the shopkeeper's legs some- 
how, and slipped in slyly without his being 
aware of it. But, as it happened, she had not 
sneaked in for white mice ; back of a certain 
barrel, over in the corner, she knew of a rat 
hole. That was what she had in mind all the 
time. She was not specially interested in white 
mice ; she thought them freaks, at best. 

So darker and darker grew the shop, and 
very silent, until finally a rasp, rasping sound 
came from behind the barrel. The cat crept 
stealthily across the floor on velvet-padded feet, 
and crouched expectantly. But the sly old rat 
did not come out just then ; in fact he appeared 
to be moving something beneath the floor, drag- 



132 WILD DWELLERS OF 

ging it noisily about. So the cat waited pa- 
tiently ; she meant to have the rat if she waited 
there all night. 

" Pat, pat, pat," sounded a scurry of footsteps ; 
it was the rat. He was getting ready to come 
out of his hole, and pussy gathered herself 
together for a quick leap. Boldly the old rat 
came forth, just as he had done night after 
night for weeks. A swift flash, and the cat 
had landed upon his back. " Squeak, squeak," 
shrilled the rat angrily, burying its sharp teeth 
in the cat's nose, and causing her to loose her 
hold a second. Then, before she could recover 
herself, the old brown rat was off and away. 
She covered his retreat toward the barrel, but 
the rat flew in another direction, up over the 
high counters, with pussy after him. In and 
out among the jars of pickled limes, lollipops 
and gum-drops he doubled, the cat following, 
always managing to head him off when he made 
for the barrel. Over among the goldfish globes 
into the shop-window he scratched his way, and 
finally tried to hide behind a great glass jar. 
No use ; the cat's great, yellow eyes, blazing 
like automobile lamps, found him. Right over 
the cage of white mice leaped the rat in a per- 
fect frenzy. Just then Fluff and Muff, almost 



FOREST, MABSH AND LAKE 133 

frightened out of their wits at the dreadful com- 
motion in their window, came out of their nest, 
and Fluff instantly began to whirl madly about 
in the creaking wheel, and pussy in her eager- 
ness and haste mistook the moving wheel for 
the rat, and sprang with all her weight upon 
the wire cage, giving the old rat just the right 
chance to slip off to his retreat behind the 
barrel. 

Topsy-turvy turned the wire cage ; the wire 
door was wrenched off its hinges, and instead 
of the old brown rat which the cat expected to 
grab, she found herself with a little bit of a 
white mouse in her claws. What she did with 
Muff I am not quite certain ; at any rate Fluff 
managed to escape, and off he tore across the 
shop floor, sliding in and out between boxes and 
barrels, half mad with fear, his little heart beat- 
ing so when he paused that it shook his whole 
body. Finally he reached a green door ; there 
was a little crack beneath the door, and Fluff 
decided to squeeze through. He came to a long 
dark passage next, then another door slightly 
ajar, and he entered the kitchen. The room- 
was so large, silent and lonely that he was 
afraid; to his joy, he spied a little hole close 
beside the hearth and instantly slipped into it. 



134 WILD DWELLERS OF 

To his surprise it was not so small as it had at 
first appeared to be, but it led in to a narrow, 
musty-smelling passage, which seemed to be very 
long, for he could not even see the end of it. 
The white mouse sat up on his little haunches, 
peering curiously about him, and even taking 
time to comb out his white silken whiskers, for 
strangely enough he felt very safe, somehow. 
The strange, musky odor was quite familiar to 
him ; he sniffed at it with trembly pink nose. 
He recognized the trail of his kindred in that 
scent, and knew that the smooth runway had 
been worn by the travel of many pattering feet. 
Perhaps even Muff, his little mate, had passed 
over the trail. 

Off scurried the white mouse at this delicious 
thought ; he determined to follow the new trail 
to its very end. Suddenly a stranger, a little 
brown mouse, poked its head inquisitively out of 
a side track, took just one brief look at the white 
mouse, and instantly whisked out of sight. Fluff 
could hear her shrill squeaks of consternation and 
fear growing fainter and fainter as she hurried 
away. He stood stock-still waiting ; perhaps 
she would return ; but she never did. Instead, 
she went squeaking along the trail telling, in 
mouse language, no doubt, of the ghostly thing 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 135 

which she had met on h,er way to the kitchen 
larder. 

This particular track, as it happened, was quite 
a favorite one and led for a long distance back 
of the wainscot. It had many turnings and 
secret passageways ; even into the attic and down 
into the cellar it led. The rats often cantered 
over it at night with burdens of eggs or apples 
which they filched from the cellar ; no wonder 
then the track w 7 as well-worn and smooth with 
the passing of so many pattering feet. 

The white mouse, although he had never 
before seen a brown mouse, was anxious to make 
the acquaintance of the one he had met ; perhaps 
she could show him the way to find MufF, whom 
he was beginning to miss terribly. So he boldly 
took the same road which the brown mouse had 
taken. He had not gone very far, however, 
before he heard a dragging sound ahead of him, 
and right in his path he saw a great gray rat 
dragging a large nubbin of corn. The white 
mouse stood stock-still, too frightened to run ; 
he was so afraid of this monster. He trembled 
and shook so that his small teeth fairly chat- 
tered together. But he need not have been 
so very frightened, for the instant that old rat 
caught sight of the white thing crouching in its 



136 WILD DWELLERS OF 

path it gave one long, terrified squeak, turning 
about in its tracks and scuttling madly off, even 
forgetting all about the corn nubbin in its haste 
to get away. Away from the ghost-like vision, 
the like of which it had never before encountered, 
in the wainscot passageway. 

The white mouse gained courage at last, and 
being very hungry it ate the corn nubbin itself, 
daintily pulling off each grain of corn, and 
eating out just the heart of the kernel. 

For days and weeks the white mouse roamed 
through the wainscot solitary and alone, shunned 
by every rat and mouse in the place, vainly 
traveling over the secret passageways, always 
hoping to turn some corner and meet Muff, his 
lost mate. How he longed for company, but he 
never could manage to get close enough to a 
brown mouse to become acquainted. One day 
he met a little company of very young mice ; 
they halted and stared at him several seconds 
with their bright, bulging eyes. Fluff even 
ventured to give a pleading little squeak which 
meant to reassure them, but it was no use ; 
evidently they too took him for a ghost, for like 
a flash they were off, and all he saw of them 
was five vanishing brown tails. 

One day the white mouse chanced to discover 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 137 

quite a new runway which he hastened to ex- 
plore. As he followed it the way seemed not 
quite so musky as the old trails, and soon he 
sniffed with delight a whiff of clear, outside air. 
The bright sunshine which met him as he poked 
his nose outside the hole almost blinded his little 
pink eyes, and the soft spring breeze ruffled his 
white fur coat, but Fluff enjoyed it. Peering 
warily about he leaped to a beam in the wood- 
shed, followed it until he had reached a knot- 
hole which led through the cow shed ; from there 
he scuttled as fast as he could run, right into the 
old red barn, and diving deep into the hay he 
lay there hidden until he regained his courage 
and spent breath. 

Now all through the fragrant hay run many 
secret passages, and as the white mouse entered 
one of them, ahead of him he saw a familiar 
figure ; it was a mouse, and as she turned toward 
him, he caught a glimpse of white fur, and, 
strangely enough, the little mouse did not turn 
and flee away from him in terror, as the house 
mice had done. Fluff saw that she wore a coat 
of light brown fur, but that her breast was as 
white as his own fur coat, as were also her silken 
whiskers. At first he had thought it might be his 
lost mate, but as he came closer he saw that the 



138 WILD DWELLERS OF 

stranger had large, bat-like ears, and bright, 
beady brown eyes; not pink ones, like his 

mate's. 

Oh, it was pleasant not to be shunned, to be 
taken for a ghost. The lonely white mouse drew 
a trifle nearer to the mouse with the white fur 
vest, until at last they had actually touched noses, 
which, in mouse circles, means they had become 
fast friends. The stranger happened to be a little 
field-mouse who had wintered in the haymow, 
and had only come back to the barn in search 
of a few soft wisps of corn silk to begin her new 
nest with, for she had begun to think of build- 
ing one out in the corn-field, just as she did every 
summer, so as to be close at hand when the 
milky sweet corn was ripening, because very 
small baby mice are fond of sweet corn in the 

milk. 

And so, just because the little field-mouse 
was very lonely, she took pity upon the solitary 
white mouse and let him help build the new 
nest. They carried corn-husks together, then 
lined it deftly with the soft silk, and before the 
corn had ripened and turned yellow, there were 
five wee mice in the nest, and three of them 
wore brown fur coats,with white vests, exactly 
like their mother's, and the other two were pure 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 139 

white with pink eyes and noses. As for the cow- 
ardly rats and mice who still live behind the 
wainscot, and travel up and down its worn trails, 
day and night, they always peer ahead of them 
when they turn a sudden corner, exactly like a 
boy who is foolish enough to be afraid of the 
dark, because they always expect to meet the 
ghost which once haunted the wainscot, and 
drove them all nearly mad with fright. 



HYTH 




mm 



leeps y 



XI 

WHY THE WEASEL NEYEK SLEEPS 

TT is said by those who have a way of learning 
A all the wood secrets and the intimate habits 
of the wild, that the owl always sleeps with 
both eyes wide open, the fox with but one eye 
closed, and that the sly old weasel, the very 
craftiest of all the wild kindred, never actually 
sleeps at all ; hence we often hear the old saying, 
" You never can catch a weasel asleep." From 
far up in the North country comes the tale of 
how this actually comes about ; why the weasel 
is never caught napping. 

Once upon a time, oh, ages ago, of course, the 
weasel was not so full of craft, or so hateful and 
sly as he is in these days. Now he is about the 
worst dreaded of all the smaller creatures which 
wear either fur or feathers, shunned and hated 
by all his kindred, just because of his bad repu- 
tation. First, because of his cruel manner of 
dealing with his prey, for he just yearns to kill 
any young bird, or small stray animal which 
happens to cross his evil trail merely for the 

143 



144 WILD DWELLERS OF 

sake of the kill, and he does it so craftily that 
he will usually leave a mere pin-prick of a 
woundf perhaps, in his victim's neck to show 
just how~it~died." But always before he leaves 
he'll make sure to suck every drop of blood from 
its small body. That's the way of the weasel 
tribe; you cannot beat them for their cruel, 
crafty manners, and they'll trail their prey until 
it is completely exhausted, then fall upon it and 
kill it. The weasel always manages to save its 
own pelt, for in winter Nature changes its fur 
from brown to white, all excepting the tip of its 
tail, which remains dark. This aids the sly 
fellow to creep quite close to some unsuspecting 
little animal, because its white coat so blends 
with the snow its movements are not seen. 
There are weasels of many tribes ; some of them 
are called pole cats. They belong to a race 
away back, when all weasels were sluggish, for 
in the old days weasels always slept soundly 
enough, just like all other animals. 

And so it happened that away up north in 
the fur-bearing country, in a beautiful forest of 
giant spruces, which overhung a kind of a deer 
run, or trail, right between two ranges of wild 
mountain land, there lived altogether in peace 
and comfort a great many of the kindred of the 



FOEEST, MAESH AND LAKE 145 

wild. There the little black bear had her den 
and raised each year her little family, the brown 
hare thumped his signals against the great tree 
trunks unmolested and unafraid, the hedgehog 
grunted and grubbed in peace, and the red 
fox raised her cubs and they all gamboled to- 
gether contentedly on a loamy side hill. Oh, 
they had great times there together, all living in 
harmony and unafraid, because they never en- 
countered anything harmful in the forest, for 
man had not entered their spruce wood then. 

On the edge of the mountain streams the 
gentle beavers came and raised their mud 
cabins, which the muskrat tribes came and 
studied and copied the best way they knew how, 
for 'tis a fact that long ago the beavers taught 
the muskrat all he knows about building his 
house. So there they lived beside the stream to- 
gether ; there were no snares set for them, no 
blue smoke ever lifted in clouds through'the 
fragrant spruces, for there were no banging guns 
to frighten them. The only sounds you heard 
in the great forest in those days were made by 
innocent things: the gurgling of the little 
mountain brooks, the dropping of an acorn, the 
chatter of squirrels, or the crashing of bushes 
when the black bear and her cubs tore through 



146 WILD DWELLERS OF 

the woods on her way to the pool to drink and 
wallow in the mud. Sometimes it was so still 
in the deep woods you could fairly hear the 
needles dropping down from ever so far above, 
down upon the mossy carpet where the deer 
herded. No doe or fawn had ever raised its 
head in alarm to see a rifle aimed between its 
gentle eyes those peaceful times. 

First thing all the wild things knew, some- 
thing strange had entered their peaceful forest. 
It began with arrows ; the Indians were their 
first enemies. Gradually they learned to know 
about the strange whine of an arrow, and to fear 
the sight of a brown naked body, topped off by 
a crest of painted feathers. So some of them 
taking alarm wandered off into a wilder coun- 
try, but most of them stayed behind, for you see 
they dearly loved their forest home. 

Next thing that happened in the great North 
woods, the trappers arrived ; they began snaring 
and trapping, and took away every little wild 
fur pelt they could get. Perhaps the beaver 
family fared the worst of all, because their fur 
coats would bring a fine price in market. But 
the greedy trappers did not stop at that ; they 
soon got after the skunk family, the weasels, 
hares, anything which wore fur. They would 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 147 

cunningly set their snares close to a beaver 
village, and of course, in those days, the poor 
things were so trusting and innocent that they 
never suspected their danger ; so of course they 
were not on the lookout, and all through the 
long winter they were trapped by hundreds. 

By spring, which is the time when the beaver 
tribes get together and talk over their plans, be- 
cause beavers usually increase so during winter, 
that in time some of them move out, and 
found other settlements, to make room, break- 
ing up into colonies and each one going off. 
When the old king of the beavers called a 
council, he could hardly believe his eyes, for 
really there were so few of his tribe left that 
there were barely enough to found one good- 
sized settlement. About this time all the other 
little fur-bearing animals began to take stock ; 
the skunks had been hunted out, and few re- 
mained ; as for the weasel tribe, all that re- 
mained of a large colony was just the old king 
and queen of the tribe and one young kitten 
weasel. 

Now this young one was as the very apple of 
their eyes, and had grown old enough to be cute 
and cunning, and company for the old ones ; 
those days the weasels were about the happiest, 



148 WILD DWELLERS OF 

most harmless family who lived in the great 
North woods. They slept then, same as all other 
animals do, taking plenty of long naps. One 
day when the old King and Queen Weasel were 
fast asleep, all rolled together in a fur ball, clear 
back in their burrow on the back of a ledge, 
just above the beaver village, a hunter hap- 
pened to pass by their door, and the little weasel 
was out on the ledge frolicking, while the old 
weasels were fast asleep. 

" Ping ! " went a shot, and when the trapper 
went off he took with him a little brown fur 
weasel's coat hanging to his belt. Now the old 
weasels in their dreams had perhaps heard the 
echo of that shot ; at least the old King Weasel 
imagined he had heard the young weasel's 
squeak of fear. So up he got in a mighty hurry 
and found the little one gone, and when they 
reached the edge of the ledge, there they found 
upon a bed of soft velvety green moss just the tiny, 
bare carcass of the little one, stripped of its fur 
coat. 

Then the old King Weasel fell into such a 
horrible rage that it is said his very eyes turned 
as red as blood in his head, and that they have 
actually stayed that way ever since, because of 
his terrific anger, The result was that, being 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 149 

very wise, he and his mate conferred together, 
and they finally came to an agreement between 
themselves that it was all their fault ; that if 
they had not been lazy and asleep the little one 
would never have met such a sad fate, so they 
resolved ever after that to be watchful and vigi- 
lant. They determined to live no longer a slug- 
gish life, and said that no one should ever, ever 
catch them napping again, and they resolved to 
bring up all their tribe which should follow 
after them to keep to this resolution. 

This was all very well, but 'tis said that they 
have never been able to overcome their terrific 
anger at losing so many of their tribe ; this ac- 
counts perhaps for their mean dispositions, and 
makes them suspicious of everything which 
chances to cross their trails. His little red eyes, 
which he still retains, are sly, full of malicious 
revenge and hate; that's because he cannot help 
it, for the weasel was born thus. He has in- 
herited his bitter spirit, and so he just kills and 
kills, just for sheer spite. 

Now this movement and counsel together on 
the part of the whole weasel tribe finally set all 
the other wild things to thinking, for they all 
were victims of the weasel's enemies. So all 
those who had lost relatives through trappers or 



150 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Indians held a mighty counsel together. In the 
end they came to the unanimous decision that 
they must drop forever their old, innocent trust 
of everything which chanced to enter the forest ; 
that hereafter they must be very wise, always on 
guard against anything and everything which 
came near their trails, and more especially were 
they to be on the lookout for anything which 
resembled man. 

So now you know why it is that the owl 
takes her rest with both yellow eyes wide open. 
This too is why, when the beavers are obliged 
to work in gangs all through the night, as they 
often do in time of flood, that they invariably 
select one of their number, a trustworthy sen- 
tinel, to guard their village. On some sightly 
spot the sentinel takes his stand like some brave 
soldier, always on guard, and the very instant 
he sees or hears anything at all suspicious upon 
the outskirts of the camp he immediately gives 
his signal of warning. £ Slap " goes his flat tail 
against a log, and this serves to arouse the whole 
colony. 

The eyes of the brown hare and her kindred 
were formerly gentle and unafraid. It is not so 
now, for they always wear a hunted, startled ex- 
pression ; actually at times they almost seem to 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 151 

bulge from their sockets with fear and anxiety. 
The hare is ever on the alert ; she must never 
be caught unawares, and thus it is she always 
sleeps with her long, silken ears at just the right 
angle, so she can readily hear the snapping of 
even the smallest twig. 

The muskrat and the woodchuck formerly 
built their huts with but one door ; now they 
have two exits, and while the enemy is entering 
one door they are already off and away by way 
of the back door. They have learned their 
lesson. They are full of suspicion and craft. 

As for old Brother Weasel, why, he is the very 
craftiest one of them all, and you can never 
actually catch him asleep any more, no matter 
how hard you may try to do so, and now you 
know why. 




POT A 
tHIIENS 





XII 

MRS. WHITE-SPOT AND HER KITTENS 

T^IMMY lived in the red farmhouse at the 
J- foot of the mountain. Up the lonely 
mountain road, just above, runs a merry brook 
which crosses the road occasionally, and at such 
places it flows beneath a little plank bridge. 

Over this road Timmy often traveled on his 

way to and from the cow pasture. It was a very 

quiet, lonely road, thickly hedged upon each side 

with bushes and overhanging white birches upon 

which Timmy loved to swing, and on the dark 

green spruces he found lumps of amber gum ; so, 

altogether, he thought it a most attractive road. 

Just before the brook decides to cross the road, in 

one very secluded spot, it spreads itself out and 

makes quite a fine deep pool, which forms a 

splendid swimming hole. Not many of the 

boys knew about it, but all the little wild 

dwellers of fur and feathers, who lived near by 

in the forest, knew all about that pool, and often 

came there to drink and bathe. 

One evening in late spring, before the maples 
155 



156 WILD DWELLERS OF 

were out, almost before the ice had gone from 
the brook, along came Mrs. White-Spot and her 
four kittens wandering down the trail. She 
crept warily around the bend of the brook, 
pushing her black snout cautiously through the 
dried ferns to make sure no hidden foe lay in 
ambush ; then she marshaled her family behind 
her, uttering a series of reassuring squeaks, and 
they followed her down to the deep pool. 

Mrs. White-Spot took up her position upon a 
large flat stone, just at the edge of the pool, and 
then went about teaching the little skunks how 
to take a bath. First she urged them all to 
venture out upon the flat stone, then, as one 
after another of the little skunk children fol- 
lowed her, she suddenly pushed each one of 
them with her snout off into the deep water of 
the pool. 

At first they did not care for the wetting, and 
began to set up little protesting squeaks of ter- 
ror, trying to scramble back again to the stone. 
But no sooner did they emerge from the water 
than, firmly, but gently, their mother pushed 
each one back into the pool again. Head over 
heels they went with a splash and a squeak. 
But finally when they had become quite accus- 
tomed to the water, they began to enjoy them- 




Mrs. White-Spot Teaching the Little Skunks How 
Take a Bath 



TO 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 159 

selves, and splashed about like happy children, 
nosing and jostling each other in high glee. 

Now Mrs. White-Spot was very proud of her 
little family, for they were as fine and hand- 
some a litter of baby skunks as one might wish 
to see. They resembled their mother very 
much, and she was a beautiful creature, just 
about the size of the large family cat, with fur 
soft and fine, jet black, and so long that when 
the wind blew across her back it waved and 
undulated like a field of grain, with every 
motion of her body ; and straight from the tip 
of her dainty, pointed nose, right across her 
back, ran a patch of pure, snow-white fur, end- 
ing at the tip of her tail, which looked precisely 
like a great soft black plume. 

Mrs. White-Spot was so very much taken up 
giving her children a proper bath that she did 
not see that some one was eagerly watching her 
from behind a screen of alders. But there right 
on the edge of the plank bridge stood the 
farmer's boy ; he had come padding down the 
mountain road with his bare feet, on his way 
from the sheep pasture, and his step had been 
so light the mother skunk had not heard him. 
The boy was very glad that the yellow dog had 
decided to stay behind and dig out the wood- 



160 WILD DWELLERS OF 

chuck hole up the road. At first, when the boy 
had heard the queer little squeaking cries of 
the skunk family, he thought it must be the 
call of a muskrat, swimming down stream, 
but just then he happened to catch a glimpse 
of flashing black and white forms in the water, 
and the boy instantly halted. Very fortunate 
for him that he did so, or Mrs. White-Spot 
would have spied him, and then his curiosity 
about the skunk family would have been satis- 
fied for all time. The boy had not forgotten the 
occasion when his brother's clothes had had to 
be buried for a whole week once, just because 
he had unsuspectingly crossed the track of a 
prowling skunk, and now the boy, who had 
caught sight of Mrs. White-Spot and recognized 
her, almost held his breath and feared to move 
even a toe, lest she espy him. 

Fortunately, the anxious little mother skunk 
kept right on bathing the babies, and at last, 
when she considered th,at they had been properly 
washed, she began to give little sharp, persuad- 
ing squeaks, trying to call them to follow her 
out of the water. She left the flat stone and 
climbed out on the bank, and three of the little 
skunk children followed her, but the smallest 
one of all, evidently the " runt " of the litter, 



FOBEST, MAKSH AND LAKE 161 

and a weakling, failed to follow the others, 
vainly clawing with his little black feet at the 
edge of the stone, and falling back each time he 
tried to climb out, uttering little helpless, pro- 
testing cries of terror. 

Mrs. White-Spot halted, waiting patiently for 
the little one to climb out, but finally, when he 
failed to appear, she left the others and went 
back to the pool. Out onto the flat stone she 
scrambled, and then reaching into the water, she 
caught the little weakling by the nape of its 
neck, just as an old cat lifts its kittens, and 
placed him upon the flat stone. Just as she 
was turning away, the little skunk gave a sud- 
den, helpless cry, and losing its footing upon 
the stone, over it went head first into the pool 
again. With infinite patience Mrs. White-Spot 
again turned back and went to his aid, lifting 
him out of the water once more, at the same 
time uttering little soft cries of encouragement ; 
then she nosed the little one up the bank, urging 
him to follow after. 

The boy had watched Mrs. White-Spot's per- 
formance with keen joy, not so much because 
he was greatly impressed by the charming little 
domestic scene which he had witnessed, as by 
the fact that he had been so lucky as to discover 



162 WILD DWELLERS OF 

a whole family of skunks upon the farm, and 
because he meant to trap them, for skunk pelts 
are very valuable to a farmer boy. The boy 
was wishing and hoping to get money enough 
ahead to buy a certain " Flexible Flyer " he had 
in mind, and which he longed to own before 
the first snow came. If he could only sell five 
good skunk pelts, then he could buy his sled. 
So the boy made up his mind to track the skunk 
family and discover just where they made their 
home. Accordingly, he carefully climbed over 
a rail fence into the pasture where the brook 
ran, taking good care to keep out of sight and 
scent cf Mrs. White-Spot, but meantime, hidden 
behind the bushes, he watched them at a safe 
distance. The little family were having the 
funniest frolic together, rolling over their 
mother and cuffing each other, like kittens at 
play, while old Mrs. White-Spot tried her best 
to seem dignified, but in spite of herself had to 
join in the fun occasionally, and would toss the 
little ones over with her snout. 

Skunks dearly love to make their homes 
under some old building, and the boy felt 
almost certain that they were heading for an 
old sugar house further up the brook ; so creep- 
ing stealthily along he traced them, and sure 



FOEEST, MARSH AND LAKE 163 

enough when they reached the old shanty, they 
all disappeared beneath its sunken floor. Be- 
fore the boy went to bed that night, he had set 
five traps, baited in tempting fashion, close to 
the chicken house, and then with happy visions 
of the new Flexible Flyer dancing in his dreams 
he slept until morning. But when he went to 
inspect his traps, although he discovered that 
one of them had been sprung by some night 
prowler, not a skunk did he find, although sev- 
eral plump hens had disappeared. 

The yellow dog bustled about importantly 
that day with his nose to the ground, uttering 
little baffled whines ; evidently he had struck 
the trail of something, but he came back, finally, 
giving up the scent in half-hearted fashion, just 
as he usually did. 

4^ The following week, when the moon, big and 
yellow, came peeping out over Mansfield Moun- 
tain, down the little lonely mountain road, fol- 
lowing the brook from the old sugar house, 
wandered Mrs. White-Spot and her small family, 
their piebald coats flashing in and out among 
the tall, dew-drenched grasses and ferns ; the 
little ones following their mother closely giving 
squeaks of delight, for all skunks dearly love to 
be abroad upon moonlight nights. 



164 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Straight and sure, on went Mrs. White-Spot, 
and led her children right to the farmer's barn- 
yard, just about a mile below the bathing pool. 
Evidently she mistrusted that the boy had for- 
gotten to shut up the hens that night, and that 
some of the foolish birds were roosting low out- 
side the coops. In spite of much encourage- 
ment, the little weakling lagged behind the rest 
of her family ; occasionally its mother waited 
for it to catch up with the others, when she 
would rub noses with him affectionately. But 
Mrs. White-Spot happened to feel very hungry, 
for as she drew near the farmyard she suddenly 
caught the game scent, and then she hurried on, 
eager for the great feast ahead. 

Four foolish, sleepy hens, with muffled, terri- 
fied squawks, were quickly caught, and a still- 
ness settled over the farmyard, broken only by 
the sound of little satisfied grunts ; the chicken 
feast had begun. Then something happened, 
and a series of terrified squeaking cries came to 
Mrs. White-Spot's ears ; it was the little weak- 
ling ; he must be in danger. Instantly the 
mother skunk forgot her hunger and went to 
investigate. Sure enough, the little skunk was 
in trouble ; he had accidentally got caught in one 
of the boy's traps, which had been temptingly 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 165 

baited with a chicken head. Fortunately he had 
been caught by just the end of one toe, and Mrs. 
White-Spot set about at once to free him. First 
she tried to pull the little one from the trap, 
then, finding she could not, she began with her 
little sharp teeth to try to gnaw the toe from the 
trap, trying to quiet the little skunk's cries of 
fear and pain by uttering comforting squeaks, 
and much nose rubbing. 

It was just at this critical moment that the 
yellow dog, who had been fast asleep in the 
barn all the time, awoke and, suddenly becom- 
ing brave, scenting adventures, out in the moon- 
light, he bounded, overbold and ferocious, bay- 
ing wildly, from the stable window, and in an 
instant had sighted the skunk family. 

Then Mrs. White-Spot in great fear and sud- 
den desperation gave a tug with her sharp teeth. 
The little weakling was free of the trap and the 
yellow dog, not knowing what was in store for 
him, bounded confidently right into the midst 
of the little family group. The next instant, to 
the great surprise of the dog, who had expected 
them all to run when they caught sight of him, 
Mrs. White-Spot turned and bravely faced her 
enemy. Poor foolish yellow hound, he knew 
nothing about skunks, and so he did not turn 



166 WILD DWELLERS OF 

about and run. Why should he? What could 
such small black and white creatures ever do to 
bother him ? 

But the next instant the yellow dog found out 
his mistake, for with blinded eyes, smarting as 
though they had been filled with red pepper, 
staggering back in dismay, groveling and whin- 
ing, and frantically trying to rub his head and 
yellow hide free of the sickening skunk scent 
which covered him he ran about in circles 
blindly digging up the earth wildly with his 
claws. All in vain ; at last, in sheer despera- 
tion, fearing he knew not what, he managed to 
get away and crawl far out of sight beneath the 
barn. Mrs. White-Spot was revenged. 

Calling her little family together, calmly they 
went back to their interrupted feast, and after- 
ward lifting the little weakling in her teeth by 
its neck, and calling the rest to follow her, the 
skunk family all went back together over the 
moonlit road together, ,and finally reached the 
home nest and went to sleep, well content with 
their adventure. 

Strangely enough the yellow dog can never be 
persuaded to follow the trail of a skunk ; he will 
never forget his terrible experiences with Mrs. 
White-Spot and her family; furthermore, he 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 167 

had to be banished from society for days, and 
could barely be tolerated in the wood-shed, and 
so cowardly did the yellow dog become that even 
a sudden glimpse of the black and white cat and 
her kittens sends him bolting like a shot beneath 
the barn with whines and trembling body. 

As for Mrs. White-Spot, she remained in her 
snug home beneath the sugar house for a long 
time, until all the little ones had grown up and 
were old enough to look after themselves, and 
the farmer's boy did not get the skunk pelts 
after all, but trapped muskrats instead, and in 
time sold enough to buy the longed-for Flexible 
Flyer. 



XIII 
IN THE BOBCAT'S DEN 

THROUGH tangled jungles of wild black- 
berry vines and tall brake crept a tawny, 
mottled figure with stealthily velvet tread. At 
a distance the creature resembled a tiger, but 
following close behind its padding footsteps into 
the open, it appeared somewhat less formidable. 
Its head was round, but flattened at the top of 
its skull, and its jaws were beautifully marked 
and lined out with dark streakings. Its ears 
were fairly long and tufted, resembling in this 
respect its near relative, the dreaded Canadian 
]ynx ; its greenish, watchful eyes were alert and 
glittered savagely as it halted close to the edge 
of the swamp, where it was bound for its prey, 
but it had scented the presence of others, and 
had stopped to reconnoiter. 

The solitary prowler was a full-grown, male 
bay lynx, commonly known in the northern 
country as the bob, or wildcat. This great cat 
resembles closely in its habits the tiger of the 

171 



172 WILD DWELLERS OF 

jungles, and loves best the dark, secret places of 
the forest ; so, when the whine of the lumbermen's 
saws breaks the silence of the woods, the great 
tawny cat is ever seeking new dens, going back 
farther into the wilderness. 

Already had the frost touched the maples in 
the low-lying grounds, and the forest trails were 
deep with fallen, yellow beech leaves, so that the 
comings and goings of all the wild things were 
rendered doubly silent. 

In the heart of the swamp, for which the bob- 
cat was headed, lay a sluggish pond, its waters 
black with rotting water weeds, and alive with 
catfish and pickerel. Close in the edge of the 
tall reeds lay an old flat-bottomed boat in 
which were two boys, who were fishing for 
catfish. Already, back in the dense forest sur- 
rounding the pond, it was growing black with 
coming night shadows, but the boys hadn't 
noticed it, because the fish were biting splendidly, 
as they always do just after sunset, leaping right 
out of the water with sudden splashes, in the 
center of the pond. Over the farther side of the 
pond a great night-bird was fishing, sailing low 
and screaming its uncanny cry as it dove after a 
fish. One of the boys suddenly noticed it, for 
the cry made him shiver. 



FOREST, MAKSH AND LAKE 173 

" Say, Jud, what's th,at thing, anyhow ? " he 
questioned. 

"Just a loon, I guess," replied the older boy, 
easily, hooking a wriggling catfish, and taking 
it from his hook carefully, lest it stab his fingers 
with its sharp horn. 

" Sounds awful kind of scary an' lonesome, I 
think, Jud, 'specially when it's most dark, like 
it is now. Say, Jud, let's quit and start for 
home." 

" Well, we may as well, I guess," replied Jud, 
" but I hate to leave now ; it's terrible good fish- 
ing. I got two dandy big fellows the last few 
bites. Guess we got enough, though, for a good 
mess, and we'll go before it gets any darker. 
Say, mother'll be awful glad of the fresh fish." 

" Bet she will," replied Tom, as he carefully 
strung his catch on a willow withe. " Say, it's 
funny we can't get meat and things up here like 
we do home in Cleveland." 

" Course, we couldn't expect to, but who cares ? 
Mother's most well of her cough, staying up 
here," replied Jud. 

" Say, Jud, I don't seem to remember this 
place," spoke Tom, as they plunged waist high 
through a forest of tall brakes into swampy, 
black mire, " Do you s'pose we're on the right 



174 WILD DWELLERS OF 

road? Wish we had one of the camp men 
along." 

" Oh, we're on the right track. If we keep 
straight on, I guess we're bound to strike that 
piece of corduroy road ; then we're all right 
anyhow ; that's the lumbermen's trail," replied 
Jud confidently. A long, weird, mocking cry 
came back to the boys from the direction of the 
black pond. 

" There's that hateful old loon yelling again ; 
wish we could shoot him," remarked Tom. 

" Hugh, guess when you hit a loon, you'll 
have to be pretty old. Why, Indian Pete's 
lived all his life in the woods and in a canoe, 
and he's only shot one loon; they dive even 
before the bullet can reach 'em, and they can 
stay under water and come up a long ways off 
from the place where you first see 'em dive. 
They've got a crazy kind of a call ; guess that's 
why they say some people are ' loony ' when they 
go out of their minds. Say, Tom," suddenly ex- 
claimed Jud, blankly, as he paused, " I — I don't 

see Say, did we come through all these 

dead woods?" Ahead of the boys towered a 
great forest of giant spruce, their dead bayo- 
neted limbs showing gray and ghost-like in the 
darkness, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 175 

" Nope, we sure never saw 'em before. We 
couldn't ever get through 'em, anyhow, I guess," 
replied Tom. 

"Well, I guess we're kind of off the track, 
somehow," agreed Jud. " We've got to go round 
these woods. I believe the corduroy road lies 
over that direction," and Jud pointed west. 

Wearily the two boys tramped back over the 
trail, which was growing darker every instant, 
little suspecting that tb^y were lost, hopelessly 
lost, in the jungle of the forest, and night was 
close upon them. 

Back on the trail the bobcat kept padding 
silently on its way bound for the pond. It had 
come out into the clearing, and gave a muffled 
snarl of dismay when it had discovered the two 
boys. Back into the shelter of the tall reeds it 
crept, and lying there flat upon its tawny mot- 
tled stomach, it peered forth sullenly and some- 
what curiously, watching the boys until they 
finally left the pond. 

Then clawing and scratching its way up a 
giant spruce, it sent out a long, reassuring yell 
to its mate, for back in the bobcat's den, under 
a distant ledge, she waited with their three young 
kittens. From her lair she answered the call ; 
it came back through the distance, echoing over 



176 WILD DWELLERS OF 

the tops of the pines, and through the silent 
places. This was what the boys had heard and 
mistaken for the call of the loon. 

On and on plodded the two boys, Jud leading 
the way for his smaller brother through the 
awful jungle as best he could, which was not 
very well, because every minute the way ap- 
peared to grow darker and wilder. At last, in 
spite of his hopeful words to Tom, Jud had to 
admit that they were lost, probably miles away 
from the home camp. 

"What'll we do now, Jud Brown?" ques- 
tioned Tom, almost in tears because of his 
blistered feet. 

"Well, no use for us to go on, I guess, even 
if we could/' replied his brother, rather deject- 
edly ; " seems to be a ledge just ahead of us. 
We're climbing it now ; guess we better find a 
dry spot and stay in it until daylight." 

" Guess the folks'll worry some when we don't 
get back. Mother'll , wonder why we don't 
come," said Tom, anxiously. " Why, look up 
there, Jud ; there's a big, black mountain above, 
I should think." 

" Yep, 'tis, and I guess it's old Hog Back by 
the outlines I can just make out," and Jud 
peered into the darkness, anxiously. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 177 

" Say, anyhow, it's an awful black, wild-look- 
ing spot right here; perhaps there might be 
bears, or panthers, or something, Jud," began 
Tom. 

"Oh, well, there might be, but anyhow the 
best thing we can do is not to try to climb old 
Hog Back to-night. As soon as it's daylight I 
can find my bearings all right, for I know about 
where the mountain lies, but we'll camp under 
this ledge. Say, great luck, I've found two 
matches in my pocket. We'll build a fire and 
cook our fish. Why, we'll be all right 'til 
morning," announced Jud, his spirits rising. 
"There's a few hard crackers left, too. Oh, 
we're all right." 

The ledge was flat and dry ; a great bare stone 
formed its outer edge, but farther back it was 
overshadowed by a natural stone roof, and here 
it was carpeted by soft moss. 

"Oh, look, Jud! See what I've found— a 
dandy little cave way back under here. It's 
full of dry leaves, too," announced Tom, joy- 
fully. "Say, we can sleep in here; there's 
room enough for both of us." 

"Sure," replied Jud, busy with his matches 
and some dry wood, which he soon had crack- 
ling and snapping, sending up a cheerful 



178 WILD DWELLERS OP 

blaze which lighted up the dark, scary places 
and made things less creepy. Then he deftly 
skinned the fish, and raked a bed of coals, and 
they toasted the fish, which were delicious, even 
though they lacked salt. Then they gathered 
together quantities of dried spruce and built up 
a great fire far out on the flat stone at the edge 
of the ledge. 

" Guess whoever sees our fire will think it's a 
beacon light, won't they, Jud ? " remarked Tom, 
as he piled on dry wood. 

" They sure will, Tom, and maybe some of the 
men from camp will be out in the woods and 
find us. Come on now. We'll crawl into our 
spare bedroom ; we'll snug up tight and keep 
each other warm. There'll be a big frost to- 
night." 

Soon the two tired out boys were fast asleep 
in each other's arms, while their camp-fire blazed 
high on the ledge, a regular beacon, as they said. 

At least one curious one had followed its 
gleaming light, for with great, agile, anxious 
bounds, the bobcat, who had left its mate and 
kittens in the very den where Jud and Tom 
were now sleeping, was making its way back to 
the ledge. Growling and snarling because of 
the strange light, it crept nearer and nearer the 



FOKEST, MARSH AND LAKE 179 

den. The bobcat is by no means so dangerous 
a foe as the catamount or lynx, but when its 
young ones are in danger, it is fierce and danger- 
ous enough. 

The bobcat seldom climbed the ledge to its 
den, but would more often mount a tall tree, 
from where it readily leaped to the flat rock. 
The cat, having clawed itself up the tree, as 
usual, raised itself, clinging to a dead branch, 
and gave forth a long, terrific yell of baffled rage 
as it faced the camp-fire, which flamed up be- 
tween it and its den, for when it had left the 
ledge for the swamp, back of that fire, safe in the 
den were the bobcat's family. It dare not leap 
over the glowing flames ; still, unwilling to for- 
sake its mate and kittens, it held its position 
upon the tree. Another fierce, more terrible 
yell, and the two boys came tumbling out of the 
den, and at the same instant the fire flamed up 
and they both saw the angry bobcat perched 
in the tree directly opposite them. 

"Gee, what's that thing? A tiger, Jud?" 
gasped Tom, clutching his brother in sudden 
terror. 

" Nope ; maybe a catamount. Say, Jiminy, 
come to think of it, I guess we must have been 
asleep in its den/' spoke Jud. 



180 WILD DWELLERS OF 

" What's to hinder his jumping over the fire 
and tackling us, Jud ? " gasped Tom. 

" Well, he won't, not so long as we can keep 
it built up high. Come on ; hurry, Tom. Get 
more spruce, quick, " and then both boys piled on 
more wood, and by the light they could still see 
the angry bobcat, who kept his position right 
opposite them, its green eyes glittering angrily, 
occasionally uttering its long, uncanny yell, 
which echoed back from the dark mountain 
and sounded like a dozen bobcats yelling in 
concert. 

"Oh, just hear him yell ; he'd jump straight 
on us, only for the fire. Say, we can't pick up 
much more wood round here," announced Jud, 
finally. " We can't climb up above either, on 
account of the rocky roof, and if we go down 
below he'll sure jump straight on us. What'll 
we do, I wonder?" 

" Oh, say, Jud, what can we do, anyhow ? " 
gasped Tom. 

"We'll have to climb down an' risk his 
jumping, I guess. I'll go, Tom. I ain't afraid, 
much," spoke Jud, bravely. 

Jud threw the last armful of dry spruce 
upon the fire, and was just about to climb down 
the ledge pluckily after more, when both boys 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 181 

heard a far-off, whimpering yell, which came 
through the woods from 'somewhere. 

" Say, what's that, Jud ? Another one of them 
things, do you think ? " asked Tom, anxiously. 

" Sounds mighty like one, but then it's a long 
ways off, down below somewhere." 

" But if it comes up here, we can't fight two 
of 'em, can we, Jud ? h 

" No, but we can keep 'em off with clubs. 
Here, you take this one ; it's got knots all over 
it ; and I'll find one for myself. We'll crawl 
into the den and then if they chase us we'll 
whack 'em over the head/' said Jud. 

Just then another long, whimpering call came 
from down below the ledge, and then, instead of 
leaping, as it might, over the dying fire onto the 
ledge, as the boys had expected every instant the 
great cat would do, with its pointed ears laid 
back upon its flat skull the bobcat, from its 
perch upon the dead limb, sent back one long, 
answering yell into the night and began to slide 
and claw its way hastily down out of the tall 
tree without even deigning to notice the two 
boys. For, to tell the truth, the bobcat had 
only been interested in its little family all the 
while, and not in the boys at all, and so now 
with no thought but to follow its mate, whose 



182 WILD DWELLERS OF 

appealing call had come to it from below, and 
anxious to get away as far as possible from the 
bewildering, hateful glare of the flames, which 
it hated, the wild creature soon caught the wel- 
come, wild scent of the mother cat, and loped 
off into the dark silence of the night, leaving the 
two boys alone in safe, undisturbed possession 
of the bobcat's den. 



XIV 

WHY AHMUK THE BEAVER MOVED 

THROUGH the summer days most of the 
wild dwellers of swamp and woods lead 
rather an idle, care-free life, as is their habit, 
thinking very little of autumn or winter, because 
it is a long way off ; of course we have to except 
the squirrels, who are so very thrifty that they 
run back and forth, industriously storing their 
winter supplies all summer long. Then, too, 
there is the beaver family, who are perhaps the 
busiest creatures of all the wild kindred of the 
woods. 

Wise and thrifty was Ahmuk, the King of a 
Beaver Colony who lived down in the swamp, 
and so old was he that actually tufts of snow- 
white hairs mingled with his stiff, bristling 
whiskers on either side of his round, furry face. 
He ruled over the company of beavers who made 
up his particular colony in the wisest manner, 
and kept them all busy, which is a trait of the 
beaver family. One often hears the remark that 

185 



186 WILD DWELLERS OF 

" he worked like a beaver," and you had only 
to watch Ahmuk and his family at work to 
understand just what this saying meant, for they 
worked away summer and winter, rain or shine, 
and, when necessary, all through the night, 
especially in freshet time. 

One day, after Ahmuk had hastily called a 
council together, all the beavers, young and old, 
hurriedly began to tear down their old cabins 
beside the stream and move them higher up on 
the bank. The beaver cabins were built upon a 
solid foundation of sticks and brush, rounded 
off at the top, and neatly plastered over with 
mud, clay and sod, which they slapped into 
place with their flat, spade-like tails, which they 
use almost as well as another pair of hands. 

The stream where Ahmuk and his colony 
lived ran through the heart of the great swamp, 
so they had many other neighbors ; they never 
quarreled, however, for beavers are most amiable 
in disposition, and inclined to be friendly with 
all their wild kindred. Musquash, the muskrat, 
and his great tribe lived close by, and were a 
sort of cousin to the beaver family, for their 
habits were quite similar, and they also built 
their lodges along the banks of the stream. All 
through the rank grasses of the swamp, and 



FOftEST, MAHSH AND LAKE 187 

threading the tall reeds^ you might see their 
winding, well-worn trails. 

One day when Musquash the muskrat swam 
past the cabins of Ahmuk the beaver, he saw 
them at work moving their lodges, and paused 
to watch them, even forgetting to munch a prize 
of lily roots because of his great curiosity. He 
saw them all out upon the bank, working away 
for dear life, and hurrying madly, never stopping 
an instant, as they tore down all the old founda- 
tions and moved them far above the old site. 

"Now I wonder what that's for?" thought 
Musquash to himself; " it seems to me that my 
cousins the beavers are always making them- 
selves a lot of un necessary work. Moving again ? 
How foolish ! Well, I don't intend to move my 
family again this season ; the old huts are quite 
good enough ; " and then Musquash, having 
satisfied his curiosity, lazily paddled himself 
down-stream leaving a long line of bubbles in 
the brown water to show where he had passed. 

Now, if Musquash had but tarried long enough 
to ask Ahmuk why he was moving he might 
have been a great deal wiser, and thus saved 
himself much trouble and sorrow, for Ahmuk 
was so very wise that he knew that a big flood 
was coming very soon ; and sure enough it did, 



188 WILD DWELLERS OF 

and then the water rose and rose for days, until 
it washed away all the muskrat cabins, and even 
drowned out some of the little muskrats who 
were tucked away in distant chambers of the 
settlement, and were too young to swim and 
save themselves. But high and dry, far up on 
the bank above the great flood, stood the cabins 
of Ahmuk the beaver, quite safe; their work had 
not been in vain. 

Soon after the great flood Ahmuk and the 
colony began to work building a wonderful, 
great dam, for they wished to make the stream 
into a pond. So they began to chop down great 
trees, gnawing them in such a manner that they 
cut the deepest place in the tree trunk next to 
the water, so that it would fall that way, and 
thus they would be saved the trouble of dragging 
the log a distance. Ahmuk and his tribe had 
such strong, chisel-like teeth that they could 
soon chop down quite a large tree, then they 
would gnaw out deep, grooves all around the 
trunk, and chisel out the wood pulp in great 
chips, and just as soon as the tree got ready to 
fall, Ahmuk would slap a loud warning signal 
with his tail, and all the colony would scuttle 
away for safety to a high bank, when down came 
the tree with a mighty crash. When the danger 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 189 

was over and the tree down, back they would 
all come, and set to work trimming off the 
branches of the tree, precisely as the lumbermen 
do. They would then cut the trunk into suitable 
lengths for building the dam. It was great fun 
to watch Ahmuk directing the work of the dam 
building. Altogether they would push the log 
off into the water, then several of the young, 
strong beavers would shove it into place, and 
then they all set to work bringing gravel, mud 
and stones to fill up and cement the crevices 
together. They were always careful to build 
against the current, so that their work might 
not be washed away. Sometimes the large logs 
had to be drawn from some distance away from 
the dam; then Ahmuk would set them all to 
work, and they would actually dig out a channel 
right through the soft mud of the swamp, and 
float the log down to the dam. 

At last the dam was finished and sentinels 
appointed to watch it day and night, for just as 
soon as a sentinel would discover a break in the 
dam he would awaken all the colony, and out 
they would tumble from the cabins, and work 
all night if necessary to make it safe and strong 
again. Sometimes Ahmuk even found it neces- 
sary to build a smaller dam below the large one 



190 WILD DWELLERS OF 

to protect it. Then, too, when he found a low 
spot anywhere along the bank, he set them all 
to work building it up high enough to keep the 
water from running out of their pond. So you 
can readily understand that the dam required 
constant attention to keep it safe. When every- 
thing was in fine shape, the new pond soon 
became so deep that all sorts of strange new 
water plants, which the beavers loved, began to 
grow in the deeper water, while down from the 
smaller streams came trout, pickerel, and bull- 
pouts to live in the thick growths of water-weeds ; 
and best of all, the pond lilies grew and floated 
upon the surface of the new pond, and every 
morning spread out their white, dewy petals in 
the early dawn ; while below, in the dim, green 
depths of the water, trailed the long, succulent 
lily roots which Ahmuk and his family loved to 
feed upon. 

The building of the great dam, and the mak- 
ing of the pond brought, plenty of new neighbors 
to the spot: the great blue heron and her 
family, the kingfisher tribe, and many others, 
because the Beaver Colony had made the place 
so beautiful and inviting, and there were wonder- 
ful new things to be found in the pond. The 
long summer days came, and in the beaver cab- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 19i 

ins the family of Ahmuk was becoming so 
large that Ahmuk held counsel with the colony, 
and they finally decided that the time had come 
when the younger families must start out and 
look for a new place to live in. So, as the beaver 
family are very sociable, and always like to 
travel in companies, they all set off together one 
fine moonlight night to seek a new place for 
their dam-building, and to found another 
village. 

The colony traveled together a longdistance, for 
they really could not decide just where to settle, 
because each place which they came to seemed not 
just what they were looking for, not nearly as 
fine a location as the old village had been. 
Then, too, when the longing for wandering 
seizes the beavers they are prone to make long 
journeys into strange countries before they set- 
tle down. But finally Ahmuk, rather tired of 
wandering, and anxious to get back home, if the 
truth were known, advised them that they had 
found the proper spot at last, for he saw that 
there would be plenty of fine young timber close 
at hand for them to build a dam. So, altogether, 
they set to work and built a beautiful new dam, 
and then when it was finished Ahmuk, just to 
encourage the young beavers, and wishing to 



192 WILD DWELLERS OF 

leave them comfortably settled, helped them 
build three fine roomy cabins on the edge of the 
stream ; and making sure that they had plenty 
of tender young green saplings to nibble on in 
their larder, Ahmuk and his faithful old mate 
bade the younger colony farewell and journeyed 
back to their old home. 

Now it so happened that the swamp had always 
been the safest kind of a home for the Beaver 
Colony, for seldom did anything ever disturb 
its wild inhabitants or enter the swamp. But 
slowly and surely men are beginning to search 
out and find the secret hiding-places of all little 
furry creatures of the wood, and while Ahmuk 
had been far off, at the very source of the stream 
up in the region of the tall pines, where the 
little mountain torrents and trout streams are 
born, a trapper had visited the camp of Ahmuk 
the beaver. He discovered the deserted cabins 
and the fine dam, and well knowing the habits 
of the beaver, he decided that they had simply 
gone off on a little pleasure excursion, for he did 
not believe they would willingly give up their 
fine dam and cabins, and thought they would 
return in time. So, very warily and cunningly, 
the trapper set his snares, because one must be 
exceedingly crafty and wise to trap a beaver. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 193 

Back from their long, tiresome wanderings 
came Ahmuk and his mate, and even though 
they were weary they both set to work making 
repairs upon the dam, for something had torn it 
apart ; perhaps the hoofs of clumsy old Megalup, 
the caribou, or even Unk-Wunk the mischiev- 
ous porcupine, who just loved to gnaw and 
gnaw, and destroy every log which came in his 
way. 

When Ahmuk and his mate had finished re- 
pairing the dam, they went to their cabin to rest, 
but Ahmuk happened to remember a little chink 
which he thought should be strengthened, so 
turned back to the dam to stow away a few 
more stones, while his mate entered the cabin. 
Soon he heard her give a sharp cry of distress, 
and hurrying to the cabin he soon saw that she 
had been caught in a cruel trap, which had been 
deftly concealed beneath the cabin floor. In- 
stantly Ahmuk set about trying to free his mate 
from the cruel steel teeth, which had nipped 
into her leg. Bravely they tugged and worked, 
trying to free her, but in vain. Then, in des- 
peration, Ahmuk, wild with anxiety, with bulg- 
ing, anxious eyes, set to work with his chisel- 
like teeth, and as gently as he could he sawed 
through the leg of his brave little mate, and she 



194 WILD DWELLERS OF 

was free. True, she had to leave one little black 
foot behind in the trap, but she didn't mind 

that. 

Ahmuk and his mate took to the water, and 
swam swiftly away, leaving behind them forever 
the beautiful dam and their comfortable cabins. 
And now afar off, in a spot which it is doubtful 
if any trapper will ever discover, live Ahmuk 
and his mate, with a fine new family. They 
have already built a new dam, and right in the 
center of it, watchful as ever, you may see 
Ahmuk himself sitting, erect as a soldier, a 
sentinel on guard duty ; while close by among 
the thick jungle of the forest the whippoor wills 
and little brown screech owls keep him com- 
pany, and his mate and the beaver children 
sleep safely, not so very far off, in their fine, 
new cabin on the bank of the pond. 



XV 

NICODEMUS, KING OF CROW COLONY 

" PAW-E-R, caw-r-r, caw-r-r-r," called the 
Vx leaders of Crow Colony, scolding and con- 
sulting together. It was spring down in Balsam 
Swamp, and they were preparing to disband and 
make their nests in which to raise their young. 

On the very tip-top of a giant balsam, which 
had been broken off by the fierce winter gales, 
Nicodemus, king of the Crow Colony, had, year 
after year, built his nest. You see, the top of 
the balsam, being broken off, formed quite a 
broad platform, just the very spot for a crow's 
nest. From its lofty height the whole surround- 
ing country lay spread out beneath like a great 
map. Besides, the high balsam was sure to be a 
safe spot, for the tree was very hard to climb, 
its branches growing at such a great distance 
from the ground. 

Now all winter long the crows had lived 
together in a colony, but as soon as the sap 
began to ascend in the maple trees, and even 
before the thin ice was gone from the water-holes 

197 



198 WILD DWELLERS OF 

down in the swamp, they began to disband and 
to eome forth from their sheltered retreats in the 
dense pine forests out into the open country. 

Among the very first ones to commence house- 
keeping for the season was Nicodemus. He was 
the recognized leader, or king of the colony, 
because of his age and also because he was very 
wise and much the strongest crow in the flock. 
He always chose the most popular young crow 
in the colony for his mate, fighting and battling 
with the others for her company, and always get- 
ting the best of his rivals. 

Now, secretly, Nicodemus was envied and 
hated by all the other crows, but not one of 
them had courage enough to approach very near 
the balsam tree, which Nicodemus appropriated 
for his home. He let it be understood quite 
plainly that they must leave him severely alone. 

A fine, handsome fellow was Nicodemus. One 
would easily have selected him as ruler of the 
colony, for his great glossy black wings, when 
spread, were wider than those of any other crow 
in the flock ; and his feathers glistened in the 
sun with burnished-bronze effects which made 
all the other crows seem quite dull and homely 
in comparison, and his round, sparkling brown 
eyes were so very keen and crafty that little 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 199 

escaped him. Nicodernus was also a great tyrant, 
and had never been whipped in battle— no, not 
even by the gray hawk who lived in the top of 
a giant sycamore, on the far side of the swamp. 
Occasionally the gray hawk would skim low 
over the nest of Nicodemus, but the old crow 
would simply take up a firm stand upon his 
home tree and send out short, insolent, barking 
crows after the gray, shadowy hawk, or boldly 
chase him back to the sycamore tree because, to 
tell the truth, Nicodemus feared nothing which 
wore fur or feathers in those days. 

So when the maples put out their coral, 
pendent clusters of blossoms, and the willows 
and catkins down in the swamp burst forth, 
showing pale, tender green against the bare 
gray of the thickets, then in the loose, ill-made 
nest of Nicodemus, on the tip-top of the blasted 
balsam, there arose.such a commotion and clatter 
that everybody in the Crow Colony was made 
aware that there were now four young crows in 
the family of the old king. 

"Caw-r-r, caw-r-r," hoarsely and fretfully 
clamored the four scrawny young crows just as 
soon as they opened their filmy young eyes, 
waking up everybody about them for miles 
away with their peevish screams, even before the 



200 WILD DWELLERS OF 

first yellow streak of sunshine broke over the 
swamp. 

And once fully awake, these little pin-feathery 
crows almost distracted Nicodemus and his mate 
by their persistent cawing and fretting for food. 
Off would start both Nicodemus and his mate, 
searching frantically for food to fill the four 
ravenous mouths awaiting them back in the 
balsam tree nest. 

Now all this hard work was quite a fresh 
experience to Nicodemus, king of the colony, for 
before he had a family he always foraged for 
himself alone, and whenever he chanced to 
pounce upon an especially dainty morsel of food 
he had always sought out some quiet spot, far 
away from his companions, where, quite unseen, 
he would proceed to hurriedly gobble down the 
choice bit quite selfishly. But everything was 
now sadly changed for, no matter how very 
hungry he himself might be in the morning, no 
sooner did he decide to, eat his breakfast as usual 
than far away, from the direction of the giant 
balsam tree, borne to his ears by the wind, would 
come the fearful din of the four small, trouble- 
some crows screaming for food. So, in spite of 
himself, Nicodemus, who was fond of his family 
in his own fashion, would go back to the nest 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 201 

with whatever he had selected for his own break- 
fast, and feed it to the young crows. Sometimes 
it seemed well-nigh impossible to satisfy their 
ever increasing appetites for, as they grew larger, 
they clamored louder and louder to be fed, and 
in spite of the combined efforts of himself and 
his mate they were sometimes at their very wit's 
end to find food, because, you see, other crows 
of the colony were also raising families, and food 
was not always to be found at once. 

However, Nicodemus was so old and crafty 
that he soon learned to seek for food in odd 
places quite unknown to other crows. 

Now in secluded spots the boys had set their 
muskrat traps, and in a certain spot by the 
brook where lived the mink family were snares 
and traps. Secretly Nicodemus visited them all, 
and, when possible, helped himself liberally to 
whatever he found in the traps. So that the 
boys never could understand why the traps 
were sprung sometimes, and occasionally a tuft 
of muskrat fur, or the tip of a toe left in the 
trap. 

One day Nicodemus, after visiting all the 
traps along the waterways, found them all 
empty but one, and that contained nothing 
but a stale chicken's head, which Nicodemus 



202 WILD DWELLERS OF 

saw lying quite carelessly upon one of the traps. 
He was about to turn from the unwholesome 
bait in disgust, for he craved something better, 
when, wafted on the spring air came the loud 
noise of fretful cawing. 

" Caw-r-r, caw-r-r," squalled the young crows, 
which meant, " More, more, more." 

At the unwelcome sound of their cawing, 
Nicodemus, fiercely hungry himself, and terribly 
desperate, made a quick grab at the bait in the 
trap, and the next instant he wished he had left 
it alone, for to his surprise and dismay some 
sudden force, unsuspected and unseen, clutched 
at, and bit into his leg, and he was held a pris- 
oner. Oh, how he thrashed and beat his great 
wings, but the more he struggled and thrashed 
the tighter the steel teeth of the trap gripped 
and held him, until finally, just about dusk, the 
boy who owned the trap came and discovered 
Nicodemus caught in the trap. 

" Nothing but an old crow caught in my 
trap," grumbled the boy in disgust, for he had 
hoped to find a mink. Then, just as he was 
about to throw out the crow, the thought came 
to him to take it home and tame it. 

The next thing Nicodemus knew he was taken 
to the barn-yard by the boy, who drove a small 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 203 

stake into the ground and fastened him there 
securely. But Nicodemus thrashed about so 
madly that he soon broke the cord which 
secured him, and then the boy brought a great 
pair of scissors and clipped off the large wing 
feathers so he could not fly away ; Nicodemus 
now became subdued and helpless. What a 
position for the king of Crow Colony. But 
worse yet was to come to him, for some one told 
the boy that if you will split the tongue of a 
crow it will soon learn to speak. Accordingly 
the tongue of Nicodemus was split, and soon, to 
the great delight of the boy, Nicodemus began to 
croak out something which sounded almost like 
"Hello." 

Secretly, in spite of his humble appearance, 
Nicodemus was neither tamed nor subdued, 
and his heart was filled with hate and bitterness 
toward everybody ; especially did he hate the 
forced companionship of all the tame barn-yard 
fowls,— most of all that of the great, haughty, 
strutting red rooster, monarch of the barn-yard, 
who never lost an opportunity of giving Nico- 
demus a vicious peck whenever he felt like it. 
And at feeding time, when Nicodemus ventured 
near the chickens to share a few kernels of yel- 
low corn, once the haughty red rooster had 



204 WILD DWELLERS OF 

fallen upon him and spurred him most cruelly 
with his sharp spurs, so that Nicodemus felt the 
effects of the thrashing for days and days. 

Old Nicodemus was a very humble crow in- 
deed these dark days. He lost all pride in 
grooming his former glossy, iridescent plumage, 
and became muddy and draggled. He would sit 
perched upon an old rain barrel in a corner of 
the barn-yard and croak and complain dismally 
to himself, hunching up his shoulders miser- 
ably, and uttering a peevish " Caw," and the 
new, strange croak which he had acquired, be- 
cause of his split tongue, until finally he became 
so dull and uninteresting that the boy lost all 
interest in him and he was left wholly to him- 
self; and thus it happened that his wings were 
left undipped, so that all through the summer 
the wing feathers grew each day a trifle longer. 
Ah, Nicodemus dull days were soon to be over, 
for one day, just about the time the first snow 
flurry fell, he spread forth his great wings and 
began to circle over the heads of the astonished 
fowls, cawing triumphantly and stridently ; 
then, with exultant, happy heart, away he flew 
in the direction of Balsam Swamp. 

When he reached his old nest it was empty. 
Nothing remained of it but a few loose sticks, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 205 

and these were soon sprinkled over with snow. 
Oh, how lonely and unhappy was the home-com- 
ing of the king of Crow Colony. 

Of course Nicodemus knew instinctively that 
his family had grown up and deserted the nest. 
Perhaps they had joined the colony for the 
winter, as was their custom, seeking some close 
retreat in the dense pines where they herd 
together for the winter months. He resolved 
to join the old colony. If he could only go 
back among his loved ones he would soon be 
welcomed again and take his rightful place as 
king of the flock. 

All day long he flew heavily about over the 
swamps and mountains searching for the colony. 
At last the leaders appeared against the distant 
sky-line ; they had flown over the mountain, 
and were coming back into the balsams for the 
night. Straggling and cawing they came, the 
long procession, and finally joining the last 
stragglers, Nicodemus flopped heavily along in 
the rear. And in the darkness of twilight he 
joined them, huddling close together in the 
dense green thickets. The flock had not recog- 
nized him and they gave him no welcome; 
evidently he was forgotten. But the next 
morning they discovered him in their midst, 



206 WILD DWELLERS OF 

and just as soon as he gave forth his strange, 
new call they knew him only as a stranger, and 
one and all the whole colony fell upon him 
and, with fierce cawings and scoldings, drove 
him forth from their midst. 

Poor, unhappy Nicodemus ! Solitary and 
alone he flew off, deserted by the flock, and 
probably by his very own family as well. 
No one had recognized him. The winter which 
followed was long and cold. At break of day 
the deposed king would start off alone for food, 
and when night came, with heavy, tired wings, 
back he flew to the shelter of the pines in the 
swamp. There the winds howled and crooned 
above him, and fierce blizzards sent the snow 
swirling about his solitary retreat. It is hard 
for a crow to live alone, for with the colony, 
where there are sometimes hundreds of crows, 
they manage to keep warm by huddling closely 
together for warmth, and so do not freeze to 
death. 

At last spring came, and Nicodemus, glad to 
be alive now, heard the old colony cawing 
loudly, and watched the great black band of 
crows as, greatly excited, they settled in a 
near-by sycamore to talk over and arrange the 
business of disbanding. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 207 

Then, unable to stand his loneliness longer, 
with swift, eager flight the old king of the 
colony joined the flock. In their excitement 
they did not heed him. But the eyes of the 
king were alert ; nothing escaped them. Soon 
a young dandy of a crow, accompanied by his 
mate, spread forth his wings and headed for the 
stunted balsam tree, the old nesting place of 
Nicodemus. Then instantly all the old courage 
of the king came back to him, and with one 
mighty swoop of his great black wings, with 
loud, commanding caws, he followed the pair, 
caught up with them, and drove the presuming 
young crow away from the balsam. Nicodemus, 
king of the Crow Colony, thus resumed his place 
among his kindred as commander of the flock. 




TIESTiHiHfflSTYSTAEIC 



XVI 
THE STOEY OF BUSTY STABLING 

RUSTY STARLING had a coat of glossy 
black feathers, all speckled over with rust 
colored dots, for all the world like a freckle- 
faced boy in summer time. His long, sharp 
beak was brilliant yellow, and he had such a 
funny, strutting kind of a walk which made 
him appear not unlike a dandy as he minced 
along over wide fields to feed. But Rusty's song 
was perhaps the queerest thing of all. It began, 
usually, with a few preliminary, creaking notes, 
which somehow reminded you of the noise 
made by a rusty swinging hinge ; but occasion- 
ally he would change this note and burst forth 
into a beautiful, clear whistle, which he fol- 
lowed by a curious, throbbing call ; and when 
he uttered this last call, it seemed to fairly 
shake his speckled body from the point of his 
yellow beak to the very tip of his long tail 
feathers. 

Rusty was a foreigner ; he sailed across the 
ocean to America in company with a little band 

211 



212 WILD DWELLERS OF 

of starlings, and was let loose in a large park. 
But one bright spring morning he suddenly 
began to feel strangely lonely, and longing for 
fresh adventure, he spread his wings, and off 
he flew to discover for himself a new country. 
At first he did not get acquainted with the 
strange American birds readily, for some of them 
chased him about, pecking at him viciously just 
because they failed to recognize him, for he 
was quite unlike any other American blackbird 
which they had ever met, and they were all 
suspiciously inclined, and unwilling to adopt a 
stranger into their midst. 

But, taking it altogether, Rusty liked his new 
home exceedingly, and made himself quite at 
home in an old apple tree which chanced to be 
in blossom. The tree was simply riddled with 
knot-holes, and Rusty knew by experience that 
beneath the rough bark of the apple tree he 
could find plenty of fine grubs for the searching. 
The apple blossoms clustered thickly about him, 
all pink and white, and the air was sweet with 
perfume, while in and out, gathering pollen, the 
honey-bees droned and hummed in the sunshine. 
All this so charmed Rusty Starling that he began 
to pour out his strange rusty, creaking song as 
hard as ever he could pipe. Oh, what a fine 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 213 

spot the apple tree 'would make for a nest. Why, 
right below him in a knot-hole was the finest 
place he had ever run across. He felt very 
much overcome at the thought of building a 
nest in the apple tree, and the very idea caused 
him to change his first harsh, throaty notes into 
a wonderfully clear, beautiful warbling— the 
mating call. 

Almost before his last note died out, Rusty's 
whistle was answered. First came the starling's 
creaking notes, then it merged into the same 
throbbing, inviting call as his own, and thus 
Rusty found his mate, for another starling had 
strayed away from the park flock. 

Rusty never felt lonely after little Mrs. Rusty's 
arrival, and they soon made all plans for their nest 
building in the knot-hole of the old apple tree. 
It was such an ideal place, for the whole tree 
chanced to be hung about with many gossamer 
caterpillars' nests ; there would be food a-plenty 
right at their very door. 

During the mating days Rusty's coat of feath- 
ers underwent the strangest change, and you 
would hardly have recognized him, for he became 
very beautiful, having lost every one of his 
freckles. His feathers glittered and shone in the 
sunshine in colors of purple, green and golden 



214 WILD DWELLERS OF 

hue, and he would flash like a jewel back and 
forth from morning until night carrying twigs 
and material for the nest in the apple tree. 

The entrance to the nest was so very small 
that you simply wondered how a full grown 
starling could ever manage to get inside the 
door ; but once he had squeezed inside, it was 
deep and roomy, and comfortably lined with 
down and hair. At sunset Rusty always took 
up his position on a twig close to the nest and 
gave a regular concert to his little mate, who sat 
away down inside the knot-hole brooding five 
young starlings. But really he or his mate had 
very little time for songs, for as soon as their 
pin-feathers commenced to sprout, the little 
starlings developed such fearful appetites that it 
took their parents every instant to find food 
enough to satisfy them. 

One day when Rusty and his mate had gone 
off after food, leaving the little ones home alone, 
suddenly, as they were expecting the old birds 
to come home, a strange thing happened. Instead 
of food being thrust down into their wide, hungry 
mouths, a long, furry arm, striped with tigerish 
marks and filled with sharp, cruel claws, came 
creeping far down into the nest, and when it was 
withdrawn a baby starling went with it. Five 



FOREST, MAESH AND LAKE 215 

times the dreadful tigerish arm was thrust down 
into the nest, and each time it took away a 
starling. 

Rusty and his mate made a frightful fuss when 
they came back to the nest and found it empty ; 
while there upon a flat limb sat a big tiger cat 
lapping his chops, and freeing his long whiskers 
from pin-feathers. They flew about his head, 
rasping shrilly, and trying to peck at him with 
their long yellow beaks, but the tiger cat simply 
blinked his eyes insolently at them. And some- 
how the starlings are of such a happy disposition 
that nothing ever worries them for long, and in 
a few days they were as happy as ever. 

Autumn came, and soon the few apples left 
upon their home tree were touched by Jack Frost 
and became bitter, not very good eating ; still 
Rusty and his mate loved to peck at them, for 
by this time food began to be scarce. Now, when 
October came, by rights Rusty and his mate 
should have gone south with all the other 
migrating birds, for at this time the starlings 
usually seek a warmer climate; but strangely 
enough, Rusty and his mate watched the blue- 
birds, the straggling flocks of geese and all 
their neighbors fly off, and still they tarried be- 
hind. 



216 WILD DWELLERS OF 

When cold weather came they left the apple 
tree nest, for the snow sifted down into it and 
blocked up their door completely. They flew 
off into the pine forests, and huddled closely 
together to keep warm. One day they were 
buffeted about in a great howling snow-storm, 
and Mrs. Rusty was blown against a barb-wire 
fence and her wing injured. Then Rusty knew 
he must find a comfortable spot for her or she 
would perish. So, urging her to follow him, he 
flew to a farmhouse, and there they perched 
upon a great chimney. My, what a beautiful 
warm spot they had discovered ! The heat came 
up in great waves and penetrated their feathers, 
and best of all they could sit down inside upon a 
small ledge and be out of the storm. 

Soon Mrs. Rusty's lame wing grew strong, and 
they were allowed to fly into the barn-yard and 
share the chickens' food. And upon sunshiny 
days they sat together upon the chimney and 
sang their rusty, creaking song together, for al- 
ready beautiful visions of a new nest in the 
apple tree came to them. But one day Rusty 
flew off, and while he was away they built up a 
rousing fire in the old chimney to clear out 
its soot, so that when Rusty came back he could 
not find his little mate. She had been blinded 



FOREST, MAKSH AND LAKE 217 

and overcome by the uprushing smoke, and had 
perished. 

He called and called, but vainly, and took up 
his lonely life again until spring time ; and glad 
enough he was to welcome back all his old bird 
neighbors. He recognized them all in turn : 
the bluebirds, the flickers and the robins. And 
one great day as he sat lonesomely upon the old 
apple tree trying hard to keep cheerful by whis- 
tling to himself, suddenly he spied what at first 
sight appeared to be a black cloud floating right 
in his direction. The cloud moved rapidly, and 
finally began to come to earth. It was a great 
colony of birds, and somehow they appeared to 
Rusty strangely familiar. Soon a soft, creaking, 
crackling burst of song came to him, and in- 
stantly Rusty knew they were starlings. 

Hundreds of them there were. They broke 
ranks finally, precisely like a company of trained 
soldiers, and settling all over the field, they be- 
gan walking about with their little, quick, 
mincing steps. 

Rusty gave one great, triumphant whistle of 
recognition and joy, and spreading his freckled 
wings he launched forth into the air and had 
soon joined the colony. And, wonderful to re- 
late, much to his delight he discovered among 



218 WILD DWELLERS OF 

the great flock another little starling so precisely 
like his lost mate that he was fully convinced 
that he had found her. And so when the leader 
of the great Starling Colony gave his loud 
whistle of command for the company to form 
ranks again, at his signal the whole flock arose, 
and making a wide wheel first, close to the 
earth, suddenly, as if they were one instead of a 
great company, they arose in the air and took 
flight, and Rusty Starling went with them. 



XVII 
WHEKE THE PAKTKIDGE DRUMS 

ALL during the beautiful summer days the 
little Mother Partridge and her mate, the 
brave, ruffled cock, and their twelve brown 
chicks had lived just on the border of a deep 
wood, not too far back, so that when the little 
ones began to fly their flight should be easy. It 
was a fine, safe place for the little partridges, for 
they could easily run and hide from danger be- 
neath the thick shadowy places of the pines, 
which towered so far above their lowly nest that 
only the soft, swishy whispering of their plumy 
tops could be heard down in the covert. The 
little ones grew rapidly, and were soon good- 
sized chicks ; and they were very knowing, for 
the very instant their wise mother uttered her 
warning "cr-rr-r-r" cry, off they would flut- 
ter, looking, in their flight, for all the world like 
a drove of flying dead leaves ; and strain your 
eyes as you might, after they had taken flight, 
you could never find where one little partridge 
had hidden itself. Instinct taught them to se- 

221 



222 WILD DWELLERS OF 

lect a leaf or object which exactly matched their 
brown feathers, and then lie quite flat. There 
they would huddle until their mother gave a re- 
assuring cluck, meaning " danger over," then 
out they would come in a little flock, and all 
this time while they lay hid, the little Father 
Partridge was never idle, I assure you, but took 
it upon himself, when danger came near the 
flock, to tell them just as far away as possible, 
and try to divert the attention of the enemy to 
himself in the funniest fashion. He would be 
so brave, even in the face of great danger, that 
he would boldly strut forth, all his feathers 
bristling, and the curious ruffle raised about his 
neck, and so bluster and strut and make such a 
ridiculous clamor that the intruder invariably 
forgot to see where the little chicks hid them- 
selves. Then as soon as Mother Partridge 
and the chicks were off and away, a swift 
" whir-r-r," and before you knew, it Father Par- 
tridge had vanished as if the earth had swal- 
lowed him up. 

The partridges always led their little chicks 
to the very best feeding grounds. Well they 
knew where the plump little red partridge berries 
grew thick in their deep green beds of moss, and 
also they remembered where in the deep moun- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 223 

tain slashes the luscious red raspberries hung in 
ripe clusters ; and sometimes they had to do 
battle with the screaming blue jays to drive them 
off, providing they reached the feeding grounds 
first. Brave as well as gallant was the little cock 
partridge. Off alone, on fleet wing would he fly 
upon private expeditions of his own, and when 
he succeeded in finding good feeding, he would 
mount upon a great log, or high place, and 
drum, drum, drum, beating his strong wings 
against his sides, and filling the forest with loud 
echoing calls— the call of the partridge for his 
mate, until she and the little partridges had 
followed him to the feeding place. Many a time 
when swift danger came upon them from above, 
and a cruel hawk swooped low after one of the 
chicks, then Father Partridge would raise his ruff 
fiercely and rushing forth, his barred wings and 
tail flaunted high, he would drum so loudly in 
the very face of the hawk that it would change 
its course and decide that it really did not care 
for a young partridge that day. 

Gradually, as the young partridges became 
stronger and larger, they would venture forth 
into the woods upon short excursions on their 
own account, but they invariably came back to 
the home covert at night, where their mother 



224 WILD DWELLERS OF 

would hover them beneath her soft brown wings, 
until they became too old, when they would all 
huddle together beneath the drooping limbs of 
a low falling spruce, or fly up into its lower 
limbs ; for sometimes their instinct told them to 
sleep out of reach of Red-Brush, the fox, who 
sometimes strolled in the woods, near at hand, 
after dark. But somehow, in spite of the many 
warnings of wise little Mother Partridge, and 
fierce drummings of the father, one by one all 
but four of the partridge chicks mysteriously 
disappeared in one way or another, until when 
autumn came there were but six left of the large 
partridge family. 

But they did not seem to mind that, which is 
the way in partridge families, and all through 
the autumn they had the very happiest times 
together that you possibly can imagine. The 
mornings were beginning to be keen and frosty, 
but their brown feather coats were thick and 
glossy, and they were, so very plump from the 
abundance of good feed to be had, that they 
never minded the cold ; it only made them 
wilder and livelier. Just as the first twinkling 
sunbeam filtered its way through the tent-like 
roof of their covert, then Father Partridge would 
take his head from beneath his wing; with a 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 225 

flash of his bright, beady eyes he would ruffle 
his crest, then " whir-r-r," swiftly his wings 
would take him off, skimming low over frosted 
ferns and brakes. Then five other " whir-r-s " 
would sound, and you knew that the partridge 
family were awake for the day, and had started 
off to hunt for their breakfast. Indeed in the 
partridge family it was meal time all day long 
in those autumn days, for they did nothing but 
feast continually, because that is the great festival 
time of the year for partridges. In the hedges 
the red choke cherries had turned black and 
hung in such heavy clusters that their branches 
trailed low, and the fruit was wild and juicy. 
The thorn apple trees, with their armor of 
bayonet-like spikes, were filled with scarlet 
apples, mellow and rich as a persimmon after 
the frost has ripened it, while over wayside 
saplings trailed long vines hung thick with little 
fox grapes doubly tasty because Jack Frost had 
nipped them. Then too there were beechnuts 
rattling down out of their yellowing leaves— -all 
these good things to be had for the taking ; no 
wonder the partridges grew each day a trifle 
more plump that autumn. Still, unlike the 
thrifty squirrel family, they were not wise enough 
to lay aside a hoard of food against hard, bitterly 



226 WILD DWELLERS OF 

cold winter weather ; they just flew about enjoy- 
ing life. So plump did the young ones become 
that at last you could not tell them from the old 
partridges. Then, all of a sudden, just as they 
were becoming recklessly tame and fearless, some- 
thing terrifying and unknown came into the 
forest and drove every little thing which wore 
fur or feathers quite wild with fright. 

" Bang, bang, bang," it sounded, the awful 
din, sometimes in the depths of the thick spruce 
bush, and again in the open, or down in the edge 
of the slashes ; then up would curl an evil-smell- 
ing blue vapor, and one time when the terrified 
partridge family took flight two more of the 
young ones did not follow their leader to safe 
covert. Four of them, all that were now left, 
remained safely hidden in the depths of the deep 
forest for days, and at last the terrifying bangs 
were no longer heard, and they finally ventured 
out into the open once more. 

By this time the mapjes, beeches, and the birch 
trees had all shed their dense leaves, and chilly 
winds, wintry and bleak, began to croon and 
whine through the dense coverts among the thick 
spruces. There the partridges sought shelter 
each night, and finally winter set in in good 
earnest and all the little wild creatures sought 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 227 

for warm, snug quarters. m The squirrels huddled 
down in their cozy nests, all lined with leaves, 
and filled with a choice assortment of provisions, 
and old Dame Woodchuck had long ago crept 
into her burrow, deep down in the brown earth, 
and closed up her door for the winter ; not until 
Candlemas Day would she venture to even stick 
her nose out-of-doors again. Still, there were 
plenty who did not care to idle and sleep all 
through the cold weather, so there was still 
plenty of life left in the forest. 

After the first deep snow the partridges re- 
mained hidden in some deep, warm covert 
among the thick, sheltering pines, coming forth 
into the open only when they wished to feed 
upon chance dried berries which the snow and 
winds had left clinging to bare branches ; but 
for the most part all the birds which had not 
gone south kept to the deep woods for shelter. 

Now right in the heart of a balsam pine lived 
a great snowy owl, which had drifted from its 
kindred down from the far North, and taken up 
its solitary home close to the partridge covert. 
The great, wise owl thought herself perfectly 
safe, no doubt, in such a lofty home ; so, a few 
months before, she had laid two beautiful snowy 
eggs in her retreat, which in time became two 



228 WILD DWELLERS OF 

small owlets, with such comical, fuzzy, round 
faces, and large yellow eyes. The great snowy 
mother owl loved them as only a mother owl 
knows how, almost wearing herself out to hunt 
food for them, both day and night. One day 
when the great snowy owl came back to the 
balsam pine she arrived just in time to see a 
sinuous, brown, fur-coated stranger hastily claw 
himself down from her nest, and dashing swiftly 
and angrily at him, she managed to clutch just 
a tuft of his brown fur. He had slipped away, 
and her nest was empty ; and all night long, 
far above the spot where the partridges nested, 
the great snowy owl cried out : " Who-who- 
wo-wo-wo-o-o," and from that day she nested 
alone and began to watch and watch for the 
reapppearance of that hateful, sinuous, brown- 
coated stranger who had stolen the young owl 
babies, but she watched in vain. 

Fiercely raged the great northern blizzards 
and sometimes when the partridges ventured 
forth from their coverts when hard pressed with 
hunger the heavy winds would seize them and 
dash them roughly about, so that spent and 
weary they were often forced to come back to 
shelter without tasting food for hours. Still, in 
certain places known to the partridges there 



FOKEST, MA&SH AND LAKE 229 

were still pine cones a-plenty, and in between 
the brown husk-like layers of the cones they 
found little nutty seeds of the pine, while be- 
neath, in sheltered spots which the snow did 
not cover, they scratched for partridge berries, 
wintergreen plums, and an occasional beechnut 
which the squirrels had not found. Searching 
and keen were the wintry winds, which some- 
times stung through their feather coats, so they 
would huddle close together beneath the shelter 
of a great log, or where pine branches swept 
low. One day a great storm raged which lasted 
for many days, and the giant pines rocked so 
mightily that none of the wild creatures ven- 
tured out as long as it lasted. The partridges 
huddled closely together upon the ground for 
warmth, and gradually the snow sifted and 
filtered its way through the forest until it had 
finally covered everything, even the partridges, 
who looked like little mounds of snow. 
Strangely enough they were warm and com- 
fortable beneath their snow coverlet, for the 
snow arched over each sleek, brown back, form- 
ing a little shelter or hut over them, not unlike 
those small snow huts which the Laps build ; 
and if you could have peeped beneath, you 
might have seen four pairs of very bright, alert 



230 WILD DWELLERS OF 

eyes peeping from a tiny opening in their snow 
covering ; that is, when the partridges were not 
fast asleep. 

When the snowflakes began to come down 
slower and slower, and almost cease, then many 
of the wild things began to grow very hungry 
and ventured forth. A sly old weasel started 
out first, and soon his lithe, snake-like body 
was skimming silently through the pathless, 
silent forest, leaving queer little tracks in the 
soft snow as he traveled. Once in the deep 
pines he began to peer about for prey ; in and 
out among the brown underbrush he crept, 
being careful that no twig should snap beneath 
him to betray his coming. Nothing seemed to 
be stirring yet; plainly everything was still 
asleep. But far up above in the giant pine 
above him the weasel failed to notice that a 
certain knot-hole was completely filled by a 
great, round, snowy face lighted by glittering, 
angry eyes, of pale yellow. For the great snowy 
owl had seen the weasel the moment he came 
into the woods, and recognized him as the 
enemy who had robbed her of the young owlets. 
On crept the weasel, feeling rather cross, when 
suddenly his little red eyes lighted upon four 
very peculiar tussocks of snow just beside a great 



FOREST, MAESH AND LAKE 231 

log ; and could he believe his eyes ?— one of the 
snow bundles moved. "Then the weasel knew 
there must be something hidden there. He 
stole nearer. He was in great luck; surely 
there were partridges there asleep in the snow. 
Instantly he gathered himself for a swift spring, 
but just as he was about to seize the first par- 
tridge, a great, white shadowy form, which might 
have been a giant snowflake, so silently did it 
fall, came swooping down upon the weasel from 
above, and the next instant the strong yellow 
talons hidden in the snowy feathers were buried 
in the weasel's fur, and he was lifted and borne 
in triumph through the air, twisting and strug- 
gling to gain his freedom, but vainly. 

Then at a signal the brave leader of the par- 
tridges rose, and the other three went " whir, 
whir, whirring " off into the safe places of the 
forest. 



XVIII 
HOW SOLOMON OWL BECAME WISE 

SOLOMON was the largest, as well as the 
most headstrong youngster in the screech- 
owl family. There were five of them, and they 
all lived in the knot-hole of a large sycamore 
tree down in the swamp. Just as soon as Sol- 
omon got through his pin-feather age, he began 
to show off and assert his independence. He 
would so bully the others, and jostle them about 
so roughly, that when the old owls came home 
with food for them, it always happened that the 
round, chuckle-head of Solomon managed to fill 
the knot-hole door, and always his greedy beak 
would snatch the forthcoming morsel from the 
others; for so furiously did he beat the little 
ones back, he always managed to get the very 
choicest bits. 

Small wonder then that Solomon grew strong 
and lusty long before the others were out of 
their down and pin-feather age. Bold too and 
fearless he soon became, and when the purple 

235 



236 WILD DWELLERS OF 

twilight shadows began to deepen in the forest 
away down below him, Solomon would steal 
from the nest and sit blinking his beautiful 
yellow eyes until their black centers would ex- 
pand from a mere dot, gradually growing larger, 
until all the daytime blindness had left him, 
and he could see everything about him. He 
saw the little brown bats, who slept all day, 
clinging like velvet bags to the limb of a tree, 
and each night he saw them unhook their claws, 
just at twilight, and dart squeaking away into 
the shadows after gnats. Then down below 
between dark, still aisles of the pines, night life 
in the forest began, and first of all a sly old lynx, 
with such an ugly disposition that he snarled 
at everything which crossed his path, would go 
skulking off by himself. Other night prowlers 
followed his example, and Solomon, watching 
them from his lofty perch, would suddenly un- 
furl his strong, young wings, with a swish as of 
rustling silk, and launch himself forth into the 
night. 

Oh, it was wonderful to be free, and best of 
all, alone, for no longer did greedy Solomon 
have to share his food with the family. He 
knew instinctively where to hunt, and haunted 
the brooks and waterways for young frogs, who 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 237 

loved to come out of the water and sit upon the 
broad, cool lily pads enjoying the fragrance of 
snowy lilies which floated upon the water, as 
they sang their jolly choruses beneath the sum- 
mer moon. Then down among the silvery rip- 
ples of the brook swam great shoals of little 
tender minnows, and into the tall sedges Sol- 
omon would dart like a flash, to snap up some 
trembling little field-mouse, or sleeping bird, 
who nested in the reedy marshes. Seldom did 
the yellow eyes or strong beak and talons of Sol- 
omon fail him, and soon he became famous 
among his wild kindred as a mighty hunter. 

Now there are always certain things which 
young owls should know, and Mother Owl had 
tried to impress upon her children that they 
must always get back to the home nest before 
the sun rose and peeped above the top of the 
mountain, for, said she : 

" Should you stay away from home after sun- 
rise, you will never find your way back again, 
because you will be overtaken by the terrible 
sun blindness, and then you'll be as blind as a 
bat, and everybody knows how helpless and 
blind a bat is in the daytime, for they have to 
cover up their eyes with their wings all day 
long/' AH the, other little owls listened re- 



238 WILD DWELLERS OF 

spectfully to their mother's warning words, but 
Solomon just snapped his beak saucily at her, 
and blinked his great eyes quite indifferently at 
her advice, which had simply gone into one feath- 
ery ear and straight out of the other; secretly, he 
made up his mind then and there, that he would 
have an astonishing adventure. He would stay 
out and keep awake all day long, instead of 
coming back home with the others and going to 
sleep. 

So one night Solomon flew off, as usual, alone, 
upon a hunting trip ; a new, strange wildness 
possessed him, and he longed for adventures. 
He would fly off a long distance to new hunting 
grounds. High and low he soared, searching 
for prey, skimming low over strange, unexplored 
pools far from home ; but somehow that night 
the moon shone so brightly that the frogs always 
saw him first, and down they would plunge, out 
of sight beneath the thick jungles of the 
water weeds, throwing back to him a defiant 
" kerchung." Finally Solomon realized to his 
dismay that night was almost gone, for the 
moon had disappeared behind a mountain, and 
still he had caught nothing to eat but just a few 
stray gnats. So he instantly made up his mind 
that it would be foolish to go back home hun- 




Solomon Failed to See the Trap 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 241 

gry, and perhaps when- the big yellow sun ball 
actually came from behind the mountain, where 
it slept all night, then he would be able to find 
something quite different to eat, some new 
delicacy, for, with more light, he would cer- 
tainly be able to see very much farther, instead 
of becoming blind like a stupid bat. He de- 
termined to stay awake and test it all for him- 
self. Accordingly, back and forth he gaily flew 
over the gradually lightening marshes. And 
just as he was beginning to get fiercely hungry, 
he suddenly spied a choice morsel of fresh meat 
lying right in plain sight near the brook. Head- 
long, down swept Solomon, and grabbed the 
coveted bait greedily, so eagerly that he failed 
to see the trap beneath it, until it had nipped 
his leg and held him firmly, a prisoner. 

Solomon soon found out that the more he 
flopped and struggled about to get free, the harder 
did the cruel teeth of the trap bite into his leg ; 
so, finally, he had to lie with outstretched, help- 
less wings upon the trap. Meantime, higher and 
higher crept the daylight into the sky, and finally 
out burst the big, hot sun in a great blaze, and 
the higher it mounted into the sky the greater 
became poor, foolish Solomon's blindness. To 
add to his misery, the choice morsel of bait which 



242 WILD DWELLERS OF 

he coveted, lay just outside his reach, and the 
trap bit and bit into his leg hotly. 

In spite of his torment, Solomon began to know 
that unusual, daytime things, were going on all 
around him. Muskrats were taking their morn- 
ing swim, splashing about in the water, and 
slapping their tails ; birds, of which he knew 
nothing, sang beautiful, unfamiliar songs over 
his head. Thousands of sleeping gnats awoke 
and swarmed in the air, humming shrilly, while 
huge, lace-winged dragon-flies whirred close to 
his ears, and Solomon clicked his beak angrily 
at them as they swept past him. Then, to add 
to his misery, a whole drove of impudent little 
brown birds spied him, and began to tease and 
torment him. They would settle upon a near-by 
twig, then dart down upon him with little hate- 
ful " cheep, cheep, cheeps " of derision, flaunting 
their free wings saucily close to his half-blind 
eyes. Solomon beat his wings frantically to 
scare them off, but always they came back again 
to torment him. Next, a colony of crows came to 
drink at the brook and " caw, caw, caw'd " jeer- 
ingly at him; and all the time the hot sun beat 
down upon him and scorched and blinded him^ 
so that he had to cover his eyes with their filmy 
lids, and defend himself as best he might. All 



FOKEST, MARSH AND LAKE 243 

day long Solomon endured the dreadful torments 
of daylight ; then, when he was almost ready to 
give up, something happened. 

"Pad, pad, pad," came the sound of stealthy 
footfalls, and then right through the tall cat- 
tails and sedges came slyly Red-Brush, the fox ; 
jauntily he made his way toward the trap, for 
his keen, pointed snout had caught the fresh 
meat scent. Picking his way cautiously over the 
brook stones he came, lightly leaping across to the 
trap. Red-Brush saw Solomon and bared all his 
sharp, white teeth, in a grin of joy and anticipa- 
tion. But first of all he would eat the bait, then 
finish off with the young owl later. With a 
great bound he was on the trap, and instantly, 
with this the eight teeth of the trap were sprung 
apart, and Solomon's leg was free. Then, even 
before Red-Brush could drop the bait, with a 
swift uprushing of wings Solomon was far above 
his head, and quite safe. 

Solomon flew swiftly to the top of a lofty pine, 
and there beneath a limb, screened by dark, 
thick tufts of needles he sat alone and pondered. 
His foot was lame and stiff, and as daylight still 
lingered he blinked and winked to keep out the 
light. At last the hateful sun slipped away 
somewhere out of sight and Solomon's blindness 



24:4: WILD DWELLEKS OF 

began to leave him, and he saw with joy the 
moon, pale and yellow, come creeping back to 
its place once more. He recognized the swift, 
shadowy forms of his neighbors, the bats, flitting 
about again. And then poor, lonely Solomon, 
unable to contain himself any longer, for sheer 
homesickness sent forth a wonderful call of 
misery and longing, out into the night. 

" Who-ooo-o-o, who-ooo-o-o," he quavered, 
over and over again, and then before the last 
long " who-ooo-o-o " had fairly died away, away 
off somewhere over the tops of the tall pines came 
back an answering call, another " who-ooo," and 
Solomon heard and recognized it as it came 
nearer and nearer. 

So, unfurling his soft, moth -like wings Solomon 
flew off in the direction of the familiar call, and 
was soon lost in the darkness of the forest. Thus 
did Solomon return to his home and kindred 
in the knot-hole of the sycamore tree, and never 
after that did he stay out all night, or until day- 
light, and thereafter he became known to all the 
little wild dwellers of the woods as a very wise 
owl. 




TIE IMG QUALSAfl SWAMP 



XIX 

THE KING OF BALSAM SWAMP 

EVEN by day it was dark, lonely, and scary 
down in the Balsam Swamp, right under 
the frowning shadow of the mountain, and so 
wild that only an occasional cranberry picker 
ventured down into the marsh when the berries 
were ripe and red. Most people gave the lonely 
place a very wide berth, for it is easy to lose 
one's way in such a wilderness. So only the 
little wild creatures of the forest really knew 
very much about the many interesting inhabi- 
tants who lived in the swamp. 

The little black bears came scrambling and 
sliding down from Porcupine Ridge occasionally 
to feed upon crawfish and frogs, and to wallow 
in the ooze and mud of the marsh, and when the 
red deer were hard pressed, and the hounds were 
baying close behind them, they found a safe hid- 
ing-place among the densely growing balsams. 
Thousands of the pointed green spires of the 
pine arose from the swamp, for the trees which 
grew there never had been chopped down by 

247 



248 WILD DWELLERS OF 

lumbermen. And so, if you only knew, the 
swamp was not, after all, such a lonely place, for 
many there were who loved it, and found a very 
safe home right there in the marsh. 

Just over in the great black birch lived a very 
old raccoon and his interesting family ; so old 
was this raccoon that he actually had rheuma- 
tism, and was quite gray in the face. The old 
raccoon could tell you many an exciting experi- 
ence he had met with down in the swamp ; how 
he had been chased by dogs and men, nights, 
when he had gone out to forage, how, when the 
hounds were baying, close upon his scent, he 
had cunningly doubled upon his track, crossed 
a brook many times, and so thrown them com- 
pletely off the scent, leaving them to flounder 
and whine in the soft mud of the marshes while 
he had shinned up the great black birch in 
safety, and lying out flat upon a limb, actually 
grinned at the foolish hounds, showing all his 
little sharp white teeth for joy as they bayed and 
howled beneath the wrong tree. 

Just beneath the great birch, in a dense clump 
of balsams, a young mother doe had come with 
her little dappled, frightened fawn, when the 
hunters were after them, and the mother's leg 
had been hurt. And the thick balsams and 



FOKEST, MAESH AND LAKE 249 

hemlocks hid them well, and the gray mosses 
and pine-needles beneath made a soft thick bed 
for them, and there they stayed until the danger 
was over and the doe was able to travel once more. 
Up aloft, in the tall swaying tops of the pines, 
whole colonies of squirrels, red and gray, lived 
with the birds, for there was plenty of good food 
in the swamp : small, sweet beechnuts, and wild 
cherries with a puckery tang, and sweet nutty 
pits. Then there were bobcats, who snarled 
and howled and spit at each other in the dark 
nights, and an old Canadian lynx with sharp, 
tufted ears, and the ugliest disposition, for he 
snarled at everything which crossed his tracks. 

Down beneath the low-lying branches of the 
spruces which swept the ground, forming regu- 
lar tents, crept and grunted the stupid hedge- 
hog family, grubbing for nuts and fresh water 
clams and crawfish, and bristling their sharp 
quills indignantly when any one presumed to 
disturb them ; even at the gentle partridge 
family, who loved to cuddle in bunches beneath 
the green, tent-like branches, and then the 
brave little cock partridge would ruffle up his 
feathers and rush out upon the hedgehogs furi- 
ously with a " whir-r-r-r," and a drumming 
commotion, which often startled the lazy hedge- 



250 WILD DWELLERS OF 

hogs out of their wits, so that they would roll 
over in sudden terror and bristle out their quills 
until they looked like a round bail of sharp 
needles. Well the hedgehog knew that no 
enemy would care to come very near him then, 
lest they get a snout full of sharp quills. 

If the Balsam Swamp was a creepy, dark 
place in the daytime, at night it was ten times 
more fearsome, for then every wild dweller in 
the depths of the swamp awoke, and the place 
was filled with strange sounds. The first signal 
for all to begin stirring in the swamp was given 
by the frogs who began their evening chorus, 
" Zoom, zoom, kerchung, kerchung," down in the 
bogs. Just as soon as the old raccoon heard the 
first " zoom, zoom " of the old giant bullfrog, he 
hastily began to scratch and claw himself up out 
of his hole in the black birch, where he had been 
sleeping all day long. Next, the snarling lynx 
glided like a shadow from his lair, and went, 
with soft, velvet-padded footsteps, skulking off 
between the thick balsams after his prey ; and 
then something else happened. For when it 
was just about dark enough, from right in the 
very heart of the marsh the King of the swamp 
sent out his lonely, blood-curdling cry : " Who- 
ho-ho, who-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho." It was the great 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 251 

white owl, the very ojdest inhabitant of the 
swamps ; a regular old hermit was this great 
snowy owl, and he lived all alone in a giant 
pine, which had long ago been blasted by light- 
ning. The pine towered over all the spire-like 
tops of the balsams and spruces of the marsh ; 
white and lonely looking it stretched its blasted, 
crooked limbs forth like the arms of some great 
forest giant. 

The trunk of the old pine was hollow, and 
deep within the whitened depths of this tree 
lived the King. Alone, despised, and forsaken 
by his mate and all his kindred, because of his 
fierce, vindictive temper, and shunned by all his 
furry neighbors also, because the sly old King 
had a way of knowing just where to find young 
baby raccoons when their mother was away ; 
and he would even carry off a very young lynx 
cub, if he chanced to be pressed by hunger, 
while nothing delighted him more than to steal 
like a shadow upon a covey of sleeping par- 
tridges and scatter then like leaves, taking his 
pick of the family, and when the angry little 
father bravely " whirr'd and whirr'd," the King 
was not at all frightened ; for nothing ever 
daunted him very much. 

Silently, on his great, soft white wings, he 



252 WILD DWELLERS OF 

swooped down upon any tender little furry 
creature that chanced to come in sight of his 
great, staring yellow eyes, and then with one 
cruel blow of his lance-like beak he killed his 
prey and carried it swiftly off in his great horny 
talons to the old blasted pine in the heart of the 
swamp. 

Only once or twice had the King been caught 
napping. That was when he made a great mis- 
take and tried to rob the farmer's muskrat trap, 
and the steel teeth had caught and nipped off 
one of his great horny toes, so that ever after 
that time he always hated the very sight of a 
muskrat, and never troubled them. Another 
time the King had a hard fight with a great 
blue heron. He had tried to take away a fish 
from the heron for which it had been fishing a 
long, long time, and somehow the heron's long, 
sharp bill had punctured one of the King's great, 
yellow eyes. Since his encounter with the 
heron, the King's sight had not been so keen, 
and sometimes, when weary, or on a long flight, 
he flew with sideway motion. 

Far up on a lofty ledge of the mountain 
which overhung the swamp, two bald eagles 
made their lonely, untidy nest every year, and 
raised their scrawny brood of young eaglets. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 253 

The old eagles were faithful creatures, and 
looked out well for the wants of their young, 
never thinking of themselves at any time, so 
that they could get food enough to fill the wide- 
open, hungry mouths of their screaming little 
ones. It was simply wonderful how much the 
young eaglets ate to satisfy their hunger ; for 
they managed to keep the old birds flying about 
for food from earliest daylight until the frogs 
began their evening song down in the marsh. 

Very well the old King of the swamp knew 
of the eagles' nest. He also knew just when 
the young eaglets were left lying alone in their 
nest, for at the early hour when the old eagles 
were forced to leave the ledge, the King was 
occasionally awake himself, especially if he 
himself had come home from his night's wan- 
derings hungry. 

Once it happened that very, very early in 
the morning the King came back to the pine in 
a very bad humor, for he had been out all night 
long hunting for food, and he had found noth- 
ing worth eating. 

"Who, ho, ho, ho-ho, ho-ho," he grumbled 
to himself crossly. " Not a bite to eat all night." 
Perhaps the old owl's eyes were less keen than 
formerly. Nothing left for him to prey upon 



254 WILD DWELLERS OF 

but hedgehogs. " Lazy things ! Who wants to 
put their eyes out trying to eat a hedgehog?" 
thought the King. " Who, ho, ho-ho," he 
croaked. 

Just then he chanced to cock up one of his 
great eyes toward the ledge in time to see two 
dark shadowy forms hover over the edge. The 
old eagles were making a very early start for 
food for the eaglets. 

Instantly the King was wide awake and alert ; 
he waited only until the two dark shadows had 
passed out of sight over the mountain, then, 
silently, on his great, soft white wings he rose 
and rose in the air until level with the ledge, 
when he darted down and, seizing a young 
eaglet in his talons, was back to the pine again 
before the old eagles came back. 

What a screaming and commotion took place 
when the old eagles returned and found one of 
their brood missing ; but the old King cared little 
for this, for, having satisfied his pressing hunger, 
he was by this time safely hidden down inside 
the hollow pine, fast asleep. 

The very next time the King happened to 
return home hungry after a night out, he in- 
stantly remembered about the young eagles. 
True enough, the one he had eaten had been 



FOEEST, MAESH AND LAKE 255 

exceedingly tough; but then, when one is 
hungry, young eagle is better than nothing at 
all. So, with his great golden eyes wide open 
and watching eagerly, he soon had the satis- 
faction of seeing the old eagles leave the nest 
and start forth in the early dawn; first one 
eagle arose from the ledge, flying straight over 
the mountain, then the mate soon followed after, 
and before she was fairly out of sight, unable to 
wait longer, for he was very hungry, swiftly the 
old King rose in the air to the eagles' ledge. 

"Screech, screech," shrilled the young eaglets, 
and just then the old King's maimed talon lost 
its grip of the young bird which he had selected, 
for young eaglets are strong, which made the 
youngsters screech still louder. Again the 
King's horny talon gripped the eaglet, and so 
very much taken up was he, and so very hungry, 
that he utterly failed to see the shadow of a pair 
of wide wings gradually hovering, hovering, 
drawing closer to the ledge with every move- 
ment, until, with a sudden sound as of rustling 
silk, the wings wavered and dropped straight 
down from above, and the great lance-like 
talons of the enraged mother eagle were buried 
in the snowy back of the King, even before he 
had a chance to turn about and face her. 



256 WILD DWELLEBS OF 

Then a mighty battle began between the 
mother eagle and the old King of the swamp. 
They finally cleared the ledge together, and 
went swirling out into space. Feathers of white 
and brown fell in showers, and floated down into 
the marsh, as they fought on and on, with great 
beaks snapping sharply, the eagle screaming 
weirdly, occasionally, as they battled in the air. 

But the old King of the swamp had met his 
match at last, for the mother eagle well knew 
that she was fighting to the death the one who 
had robbed her nest before. In vain did the 
King seek to gain his home nest in the blasted 
pine. The eagle stuck to him, tearing at him 
cruelly with beak and talons until, finally, flut- 
tering weakly, utterly exhausted, his spirit 
broken, blind and dying, the King began to fall. 
Fluttering weakly he began to settle down, down 
into a dark, hidden spot beneath the thick bal- 
sams. He had become just a mere bundle of 
snowy feathers now ; all fierceness had departed, 
and there was nothing left of the King for the little 
wild things of the forest to longer fear and hate. 

And that night when the frogs started off 
with their usual signal, calling all to awaken 
in the marshes, the " Who, ho, ho-ho, ho-ho, o-o " 
of the old King of the swamp was silent. 



XX 

THE GIAJSTT OF THE COEK-FIELD 

TTyAME WOODCHUCK, old and decrepit, 
■L^ came to the entrance of her burrow and 
peered anxiously forth, for she always poked the 
very tip of her brown nose out first, and then, 
if she happened to find the coast quite clear, she 
would venture to waddle entirely out. 

Poor old thing, so old and covered with fat 
that she could not travel far ; besides, one hind 
leg had once been caught in a steel trap and 
lamed, so that now she was almost doubly help- 
less. Her thick fur coat was of a dull reddish 
brown, and very much faded by sun and rain, 
and so badly worn off in certain places it looked 
really moth-eaten, while her black snout and 
stiff whiskers were quite gray with age. 

Dame Woodchuck had very wisely selected 
her home, for you might stroll right past the 
great clump of rank nettles where it was, a hun- 
dred times without even suspecting that it con- 
cealed the door to a woodchuck V burrow, be- 

2od 



260 WILD DWELLERS OF 

cause, you see, the vines of a wild woodbine 
trailed over the nettles, and formed such a fine 
curtain that it quite concealed the entrance to 
her home. 

Of course all the little wild dwellers of the 
woods and her neighbors, who always know 
about such secret dwellings, might have told 
you where old Dame Woodchuck actually lived, 
but then, you see, they never did. 

It was a bright, sunny day, and Dame Wood- 
chuck enjoyed sitting in the door of her home, 
for the pleasant sun felt very grateful as it shone 
warmly down upon her aching old back. Be- 
sides, it was pleasant to chat with the neighbors 
who occasionally passed that way. After ascer- 
taining, beyond a doubt, that her most dreaded 
enemy, the farmer's yellow dog, whom she de- 
tested greatly because he delighted to pounce 
out upon her suddenly and worry and torment 
her, was nowhere in sight, with much wheezing 
and little chattering complaints, Dame Wood- 
chuck managed to flop out of her burrow and 
sitting bolt upright upon her haunches, just in 
the brown, upturned earth in front of the nettle 
patch, she watched and waited for the return of 
her dilatory son, Ichabod. To tell the truth, the 
Dame was really beginning to feel a bit angry 



FOREST, MAESH AND LAKE 261 

and out of patience with him, and well she 
might, for she was very, very hungry, and as she 
was now too old and lame to go off any distance 
to forage for herself she had to depend almost 
entirely upon Ichabod for food. Long had she 
been anticipating his return with the juicy, yel- 
low turnips which he had been sent to bring 
from the farmer's garden, where each year they 
grew so plentifully. What could have become 
of Ichabod ? How tiresome to have to wait 
such a long, long while. Ichabod had been gone 
long enough to go to the garden and back twice 
over. 

As Dame Woodchuck sat waiting for the tur- 
nips, pleasant recollections of bygone days sud- 
denly came into her mind, days when the wood- 
chuck family had been a large and happy one. 
Well she remembered the time when she and her 
mate had dug their burrow close to the beauti- 
ful field of pink clover, where every morning 
all the little woodchucks used to spend hours 
rolling and tumbling about in the fragrant, dew- 
laden blossoms. 

What wonderful happiness had been theirs. 
But alas ! to her sorrow, the farmer had found 
their burrow and broken up the happy family. 
One by one all the children had been caught in 



262 WILD DWELLERS OF 

traps, until now but Ichabod remained of her 
five little ones. And then, worst blow of all, her 
mate, evidently faithless, had gone off and left 
them. Shortly after that the beautiful clover 
field had all been plowed up, and now it lay in 
ugly brown furrows, bare, unlovely, and as Dame 
Woodchuck looked back into the pleasant past 
a tear of grief and regret stole into her bleary 
eyes and trickled down her gray, furry cheeks. 

Suddenly the Dame heard a scuffling, scuttling 
sound among the ferns, and then she speedily 
forgot all her sad thoughts, and was instantly 
alert, and listening with her small round ears. 
It was Ichabod. With a grunt of welcome and 
satisfaction she accepted eagerly, and fell to 
munching hungrily, the hard, unripe apple 
which he had brought to her. However, she 
felt far from satisfied with the apple, for she had 
all this time been anticipating the turnip, and 
the apple was so sour she did not relish it very 
keenly. Still, it was perhaps better than noth- 
ing at all. Ichabod had a strange story to tell, 
and the Dame listened with dismay as he told 
her that the farmer had planted no turnips in 
his garden this season. Evidently Ichabod had 
brought to his mother the very best he could 
find. But Ichabod brought also strange news. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 263 

A friendly raccoon, whom he had met during 

his absence, had told him quite a wonderful 

tale : that across the cranberry bogs, far over on 

the other side of the great hill covered with the 

pointed balsam firs, which lay in plain sight of 

the burrow, might be found a pleasant valley, 

and best of all in the valley was a great field of 

young corn. Already the plumy blades were 

beginning to bend down, heavy with their 

weight of milky sweet corn, upon whose juicy 

kernels one might live in luxury until the frost 

came, for not until then would the corn be 

harvested by the farmer. 

Moreover, between the sentinel-like corn-stalks 
great golden pumpkins were fast ripening. 
Oh, what a land of plenty ! If one were only 
there upon the enchanted ground. Dame Wood- 
chuck gazed disconsolately and impatiently 
forth at the dreary prospect which lay spread 
out before her nettle-draped door and pondered 
over her situation. She knew that a time of 
action had arrived in the woodchuck family, 
and that she and Ichabod must surely go forth 
and seek a new home at last. 

So that very night, when the great yellow 
moon rose over the dark hills, the Dame left her 
old burrow and waddled forth, with Ichabod 



264: WILD DWELLERS OF 

following closely behind, to find a new home 
where food should be plentiful. 

Across the perilous deep morasses of the cran- 
berry bogs she dragged her unwieldy old body. 
Necessarily they traveled quite slowly, for the 
way seemed long and difficult, and the poor old 
thing was weak from lack of proper food. Often 
they paused in their night journey to rest and 
enjoy their new surroundings, for the Dame had 
never traveled very far from her old burrow 
before. Down in the thickets of the cranberry 
bog the whippoorwills sang plaintively their 
tremulous song ; the Dame and Ichabod listened, 
and heard also, occasionally, the sleepy call of a 
nesting hermit thrush down in the meadows. 
Sometimes a hoot owl would brush past them, 
and call at them jeeringly. On the edge of the 
marshes they came into a great bed of dewy 
clover, sweet and cool. Here they paused to 
rest and feed. 

Finally they reachecl the open country, and in 
the distance, in the moonlight, they plainly dis- 
tinguished the tall wavy shadows of the corn of 
which the kind raccoon had told them. They 
had reached the promised land of plenty at last. 

Very fortunately for the Dame and Ichabod 
they chanced to come across a deserted rabbit 



FOKEST, MARSH AND LAKE 265 

hole, which by a little judicious digging they 
very soon converted into quite a comfortable 
home ; so that before any of the other little wild 
creatures in that neighborhood were awake the 
next morning the Dame and Ichabod had taken 
possession of their new burrow and were soon 
fast asleep in an upper chamber. 

As Dame Woodchuck was so very weary and 
lame from her long journey she could not travel 
far from her home, but had to content herself at 
first with simply dragging herself to the door of 
the burrow, where she would gaze forth long and 
hopefully at the new and pleasant prospect 
spread out before her tired old eyes. 

There, sure enough, not many fields away, lay 
the beautiful corn-field, where already choice 
ears filled with tender grains, just suited to her 
worn old teeth, were waiting, to be had for the 
taking, and she knew that already Ichabod was 
in the field, scurrying about beneath the wavy 
green plumes. 

Great was the alarm and dismay of the Dame 
when Ichabod finally returned to her with no 
food and a strange fearsome tale of what had 
happened to him upon his first visit to the corn. 
It was all true enough about the fine, juicy corn ; 
it was there, and plenty of it for everybody, just 



266 WILD DWELLERS OF 

as the kind raccoon had told them. But, unfor- 
tunately, the whole field was ruled over, watched 
and guarded by a frightful monster, who occu- 
pied a commanding position right in the very 
center of the corn-field, where he guarded well 
the corn both by night and day; with angry, 
menacing mien he stood there, and no one dare 
intrude. Moreover, Solomon Crow and his 
family, who sat upon a rail fence near the corn- 
field, had told a terrible tale of certain unseen 
snares placed for the unwary, which the terrible 
creature had spread out all about him. Many of 
the crows had been caught in the innocent ap- 
pearing threads, had given a few futile flops and 
strident caws, and that had been the last of them. 
Oh, the giant who guarded the corn was indeed 
a fearful monster. Built upon similar lines to 
the farmer himself, whom they had all often 
seen, but far, far more horrible to look upon was 
this creature of the corn-field, who towered far 
above the tallest corn-stalks and held leveled at 
intruders an unknown weapon, from which 
fluttered yards and yards of fearsome streaming 
objects, and when the wind blew across the field 
the creature who guarded the corn shook with 
rage from top to toe. The giant's hair was ragged 
and unkempt, and bristled forth fiercely from 



FOKEST, MAKSH AND LAKE 267 

beneath his tattered old hat. Ichabod, somewhat 
bolder than others, wishing to get a full view, had 
crept as closely as he dared, and rising upon his 
hind legs, by the aid of a stone, he had stolen 
one fleeting glance full at the giant of the corn- 
field. One look had been quite sufficient for 
Ichabod and had sent him, panic-stricken with 
fear, hustling away ; so hastily did he travel that 
he left a large tuft of his fur in a barb-wire fence 
beneath which he slid, and ran scuttling back 
home to his mother with chattering teeth. 

Now Dame Woodchuck was very old and wise 
in experience, and she had in her long lifetime 
heard of such giants as Ichabod told her he had 
seen in the corn-field. And never in all her life 
had she ever heard of one of the creatures harm- 
ing a woodchuck, in spite of gossip. After all, 
the crows were mostly gossips. It was certainly 
high time that Ichabod began to learn a few 
lessons from life, and have more courage and 
responsibility. Besides, the more the Dame 
thought of the luscious sweet corn so close at 
hand, the more hungry did she become. 

So finally, quite unable to endure the trying 
situation longer, Dame Woodchuck herself started 
forth to investigate the matter. And Ichabod, 
not wishing to tarry home alone, ran along beside 



268 WILD DWELLERS OF 

his old mother. They often stopped to rest and 
chat by the roadside, and all the terrifying stories 
which they heard of the giant filled them with 
secret dismay. But Dame Woodchuck was very 
brave at heart and did not lose her courage 
easily. So skirting the edge of the corn-field 
they soon gained a little hillock, where they had 
a full view of the monster. It was only too true ; 
there he stood, undaunted and firm, waving 
aloft his fluttering, terrifying warning. Dame 
Woodchuck and Ichabod sat bolt upright upon 
their haunches and stared at the creature with 
bulging eyes. 

Just at that very moment a deafening bang 
sounded, and a great cloud of smoke arose from 
the vicinity of the giant, and the next moment 
Peter Rabbit, with a wild cry of warning, dashed 
past them in mad haste, running for his very life. 
In an instant Dame Woodchuck and Ichabod 
had dropped down flat upon their stomachs and 
there they lay trembling together beneath a 
great bunch of burdock leaves. Perhaps even 
now the giant was searching about among the 
corn for them. They waited until their courage 
returned and finally crept back home again, 
quite sadly disappointed, for they had not even 
been able to taste a kernel of corn. 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 



269 



The situation in the- woodchuck home was, 
after this, rather a desperate one, for food was 
again becoming scarce. How aggravating, too, 
when the luscious corn was ripening almost 
within sight of their door. 

Dame Woodchuck's sides soon became quite 
flabby, so that her fur coat actually hung in 
plaits and ridges upon her back, so loose did 
it become, while her eyes fairly bulged with 
anxiety and discouragement. 

"Tis always darkest before dawn," as the 
saying goes, and already brighter days were in 
store for the Dame and Ichabod. 

One dark night, when they were fast asleep 
in their snug burrow, they were suddenly 
awakened in the middle of the night by a ter- 
rific rumbling and crashing above their heads. 
This frightful commotion and din went on all 
night long, and cowardly Ichabod squeaked 
and shook with fear, and crept close to his 
mother's side. 

"Lie still, O timorous one," said his mother, 
trying to quiet him. " Do not be afraid ; 'tis 
but the great Storm Spirit. He is passing this 
way." By morning the commotion had ceased, 
and then Ichabod and his mother ventured to 
peer forth from their do<;r. And what a sight 



270 WILD DWELLERS OF 

was that which greeted their eyes. Great trees 
of the forest now lay prone upon the ground, 
which the mighty Storm Spirit in his strength 
had laid low everywhere in passing, for he had 
left ruin in his wake. 

And then Peter Rabbit scurried past their 
door, and paused long enough to tell them some 
great and glorious good news, which was, that 
the mighty Storm Spirit had actually destroyed 
their great enemy, the terrible giant of the corn- 
field. At last the terrible creature had been 
conquered, and now lay prone and helpless 
upon the ground, a terror no longer to the little 
timid wild creatures who wore fur and feathers. 

Already the crows were cawing the news 
triumphantly over his remains and feasting 
meantime greedily upon the unguarded corn, 
and then, very soon the Dame and Ichabod had 
joined them, and were burying their sharp teeth 
hungrily in the milky sweet kernels of corn. 
For the reign of the corn giant was now at an 
end, and soon Dame Woodchuck and her son 
became very, very plump and sleek, and fine and 
strong. And when the autumn winds began to 
blow chill and keen, and Jack Frost came and 
froze over all the little brooks and waterways, 
then they withdrew into their snug burrow for 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 271 

the winter, as they always do, and after stuffing 
up the entrance of their door securely with 
leaves and earth, that the snow might not drift 
and filter inside, there they slumbered together, 
comfortable and warm, until it was time to come 
out in the spring to see if they could find their 
shadows ; for the woodchucks know best of any 
of the little forest creatures when spring is ac- 
tually come. 



TIE ItAYEMY OF 
EBEHZEt COON 




XXI 

THE BEAVERY OF EBENEZER COON 
"De raccoon tail am ringed all >roun." 

/^\NCE, a long time ago, there lived in an old 
VV oak tree in the middle of a deep forest, a 
large family of raccoons. In due course of time 
all the little ones grew up, and choosing mates, 
as is their custom, one after the other they 
deserted the old home tree until finally the 
only remaining one was Ebenezer. Ebenezer 
so loved the deep, comfortable nest, hollowed 
out far down in the trunk of the oak tree, that 
he preferred to stay right there instead of going 
out into the world with his brothers and sisters 
and finding a new home. 

So there he lived all alone and in time he 
became known as a sort of a hermit. Ebenezer 
was really a fine, handsome fellow, with a black, 
pointed snout and stiffly bristling whiskers,' 
deep, yellowish-brown fur, expressive, medita- 
tive green eyes, and small, alert, round ears, and 
when he moved about, or the wind blew across 
his fat back, his fur was so long and fine that it 

275 



276 WILD DWELLERS OF 

actually waved. But most remarkable of all 
Ebenezer's many attractions was, perhaps, his 
fine, plume-like tail, of which he was inordi- 
nately vain. 

Now Ebenezer Coon took what might be 
called " solid comfort." The baying hounds 
never molested him, for just beneath and all 
around his home tree grew a perfect battlement 
of thorn bush, and often Ebenezer, from a safe 
retreat in some abandoned squirrel's nest, would 
peek cautiously over its edge and with little 
rumbling grunts of satisfaction and fun he 
would watch the baffled hounds who had 
scented his retreat, while they gave up the 
chase in disgust, backing out with torn, bleed- 
ing ears and cruel spikes from the thorn bush 
piercing their inquisitive snouts. 

One night, just as the big, yellow moon arose 
from behind the dark mountains, and its rays 
began to penetrate and filter through the thick 
dark pines, Ebenezer awoke from his customary, 
all-day sleep and began to pull himself up out 
of his nest. He dearly loved to go abroad on 
a moonlight night, enjoying the scenery while 
he leisurely foraged about for food. Having 
clawed his way up out of his hole he took up 
his position on a flat limb of the pine, gazing 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 27? 

forth over the prospect With approval, and turn- 
ing over in his mind just what he should do 
that night. 

The owls were already out, hooting and call- 
ing soft answers back and forth to each other, 
and hermit thrushes were still singing their 
plaintive lullabies drowsily, in the thorn thick- 
ets, while down in the marshes the frogs and 
peepers had already begun their nightly sere- 
nade. Occasionally, from far off over the moun- 
tain, a whippoorwill called lonesomely. Even 
the bats were out foraging, for the soft night 
moths which they loved to hunt on the wing, 
and flapped, squeaking shrilly, close to Ebene- 
zer's head. 

Ebenezer felt lazy, and began to stretch out 
first one black, claw-tipped foot, then the other, 
yawning and showing all his little sharp white 
teeth. At last he was quite awake and instantly 
began to realize that he was frightfully hungry. 
His pressing needs soon set his sluggish wits to 
work and he began to think longingly of a far- 
away field of ripening corn. True, the corn 
was a long distance from home, but Ebenezer 
never bothered about distances when he went 
hunting for sweet corn. It was the one dainty 
in all the world for which he cared most. 



278 WILD DWELtEKS OF 

Now the more he thought about the milk- 
white, ripening kernels of corn, encased in 
their pale green, silken husks, the hungrier did 
Ebenezer become, until, unable to endure the 
situation longer, with sudden, desperate haste 
he began to slide and claw his way down the 
trunk of the oak tree. Ebenezer was now in 
fine spirits, for the night was simply perfect, and 
just suited his plans, so he frolicked along the 
forest path, often giving little ridiculous skips 
and bounds into the air for sheer joy. He 
skirted a deep ravine, then crossed the brook 
where he paused to dip his black snout into the 
bubbles, scattering a shoal of silvery minnows 
leaping and playing in the water. 

Just before Ebenezer reached the corn-field he 
came across a queer, round bundle, or ball, lying 
directly in his path. Ebenezer never turned 
out for anything which happened to be in his 
road. He was far too indolent to do that — he 
always waited for others to make way for him. 
So he kept right on, and when he came close to 
the queer ball he playfully decided to see if it 
was alive, and have some fun with it. He 
reached forth, rather gingerly at first, and 
touched the thing with the tip of his paw. It 
did not move, so then he commenced to jostle it 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 279 

rudely about with his black snout. Just as he 
was beginning to rather enjoy the game, all of 
a sudden the supposed ball suddenly unrolled 
itself, stood upright and charged savagely at 
him. And then before Ebenezer knew it, he 
had been bowled over on his fat back, with his 
nose and cheeks stuck full of cruel sharp quills. 
The supposed ball had simply been a stray por- 
cupine who had rolled himself up into a neat 
ball and gone to sleep. 

Without stopping to even glance at poor 
Ebenezer, the porcupine, having revenged him- 
self for being disturbed, turned and waddled 
back into the forest, grunting indignantly to 
himself as he traveled. 

"Gar-r-r-r, gar-r-r-r," snarled Ebenezer in a 
perfect frenzy of agony and rage, lifting his 
fore paws to his smarting cheeks and trying 
vainly to pull out the sharp, barbed quills which 
were penetrating his flesh. But he soon found 
out that the more he rubbed and scratched, the 
worse the cruel quills hurt him. 

" Gar-r-r-r, gar-r-r-r," howled Ebenezer again, 
more loudly and impatiently than before. Just 
then a white cottontail rabbit chanced to be 
passing that way, and heard the agonized cries 
of the poor raccoon and instantly saw what had 



280 WILD DWELLERS OF 

happened, for once one of her own family had 
encountered a porcupine. 

" Friend Raccoon, you seem to be in trouble," 
said the kind rabbit, in the language in which 
the little wild creatures of the forest converse 
together. " Pray, let me help you, for I under- 
stand just exactly what to do." 

So saying, the white rabbit, with her soft 
little paws, deftly removed the cruel needles 
from the raccoon's face, and then bidding him 
seek for a mullein leaf covered with night dew, 
and apply it to his smarting wounds, she left 
him. 

Of course Ebenezer was most grateful to the 
kind rabbit for her timely aid, and he then and 
there made up his mind that if ever it lay in 
his power to repay the rabbit's kindness he 
would go out of his way to do so. Then Ebene- 
zer, after satisfying his hunger with corn, went 
back to his home, and rolling himself into a 
fur ball, went to sleep/ 

In spite of the fact that Ebenezer was indolent 
and lazy by nature, he possessed one very com- 
mendable trait of character. He was extremely 
* neat and dainty in all his habits, and never 
dreamed of tasting a morsel of food which he 
might chance to find until he had first given it 



FOEEST, MARSH AND LAKE 281 

a thorough washing, whatever the food might 
be, if a turnip, an ear of corn or a land crab. 
Just as soon as Ebenezer found it he would 
always hurry away to the nearest pool and thor- 
oughly rinse it before he ate it. 

Some time after his adventure with the porcu- 
pine, he happened to be out hunting for food. 
Now there had been a great freshet in the land 
at that time, so food was very scarce and many 
of the little wild things had lost their lives, or 
been driven from their homes along the banks 
of the brook by the mighty, rushing waters. 
Of course the raccoon was quite safe, for his 
home nest was high above the freshet. Ebenezer 
chanced upon a floating corn-stalk that day, on 
which he was delighted to find an ear of corn. 
It was a lucky find for the hungry raccoon, and 
very happy about it, he hastily stripped off the 
husk and leaning over the stream began to rinse 
the ear of corn in the water. Just as he had 
decided that it was properly rinsed, and that he 
might as well eat it, he suddenly heard a cry of 
fear and agony, and looking up-stream, he saw 
a strange sight. 

Borne upon the rushing, muddy waters of the 
freshet he saw a log, and upon it were three 
little white rabbits. They were clinging fran- 



282 WILD DWELLERS OF 

tically to the Jog, which came whirling swiftly on 
down-stream. Just below thundered and roared 
the falls, and should they plunge over them they 
must surely perish. Ebenezer saw their danger. 
At the same instant he also realized that now 
had come the opportunity to show forth his 
gratitude for the rabbit's kindness to him. 

That very instant the log swerved and was 
caught and held fast by the branch of a tree. 
Oh, would the branch hold it? With quick, 
bold strokes Ebenezer plunged straight into the 
roaring, rushing waters, and swam quickly out 
to the log. He realized, however, that he could 
never reach the shore again if the rabbits clung 
to his wet body and hampered his movements 
in the water, so instantly he told them just what 
to do. 

" Quick, seize hold of my tail and hang on for 
dear life," called Ebenezer to the first little 
rabbit. And then with the little, frightened 
thing clinging desperately to his plumy tail, 
Ebenezer swam quickly to the shore and left it 
and returning twice again, he succeeded in saving 
the last little helpless rabbit just as the log with 
a lunge went swirling down-stream. 

Ebenezer Coon was very tired indeed after the 
rescue, and the last time he swam back to shore 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 283 

his fur was so heavy With water and the ad- 
ditional weight of the last little rabbit that it 
was all he could do to manage to reach the bank 
bo faint and weary, for a while Ebenezer lay 
exhausted upon the bank, while the three little 
rabbits, after drying their fur in the sunshine, 
bade Ebenezer farewell and scurried back home 
to their mother. 

After Ebenezer felt rested, he found his ear of 
corn again, nibbled a bit at it to stay his hunger 
then dragged his tired body home, and clawing 
his way heavily up into the home tree, rolled 
himself up comfortably and slept. 

Now all unbeknown to Ebenezer, while he 
slumbered, much excitement and gossip was 
taking place among all the little wild folk of 
the forest, for everybody was commenting upon 
the brave act of Ebenezei^Coon in saving the three 
little white rabbits. And then the kind fairy of 
the woods, who watches and rewards all such 
little creatures for their good deeds and acts of 
bravery, especially, and knows everything which 
takes place in the animal kingdom, of course 
soon knew all about Ebenezer's bravery there- 
fore planned out a little surprise which should 
be his reward. 

So when Ebenezer finally awoke from his long 



284 WILD DWELLERS OF 

nap, and came out as usual to sit and sun himself 
upon his favorite limb in the oak tree, then all 
the little wild things saw at once when they 
looked upon Ebenezer Coon that he had indeed 
been rewarded for his bravery, because the rac- 
coon's tail, which had always been just plain 
gray in color, like the rest of his coat, was now 
ringed about with five beautifully shaded jet- 
black rings— -the decoration, the wonderful badge 
of distinction conferred on Ebenezer Coon for his 
bravery. And so ever since that time the beauti- 
ful, plumy tail of every raccoon in the kingdom 
has been marked with five jet-black rings. 




VEIf ET IMC 



XXII 
THE NARROW ESCAPE OF VELVET WINGS 

' W HIR ' Whir ' Whir '" sounded the swish of 
V V many silken wings. The swallows had 
arrived from the South; thousands of them 
there were, long winged and dusky brown, with 
faintly russet breasts. So full of joyous bustle 
they were over their arrival, "cheep, cheep, 
cheeping," making a great clamor as they sep- 
arated into colonies, seeking to locate for the 
summer. The old red barn seemed to invite 
them ; in fact, two colonies had a regular pitched 
battle over its possession, until at last the 
stronger band drove away the weaker, and took 
possession of the coveted spot. They swarmed 
into the old barn through small windows high 
in its peak, chattering together as they selected 
building sites, many of them hastily using last 
season's mud-caked foundations. So great a dis- 
turbance did the swallows make in the silence 
of the dim, old barn that they disturbed and 
finally awakened many who had not aroused 
themselves from their winter's torpor and sleep 



288 WILD DWELLERS OF 

Far up in a distant peak of the barn, in a 
certain dim corner, where a great rafter lapped, 
forming a secluded sort of shelf, there hung, 
stretched across the corner, an unusually large 
cobweb curtain. The old gray spider who had 
spun the web had abandoned his web when cold 
weather came, and crawled down into the warm 
hay. Gradually thick dust collected upon the 
web curtain, and well it did, because back of it, 
upon the wide, dusty beam it covered, lay two 
torpid things, resembling nothing so much as 
two round balls of brown fur. 

The strident chatter of the swallows had pen- 
etrated the small round ears of the two fur balls, 
perhaps, or it might have been the light from a 
stray yellow sunbeam, which at a certain hour 
of each day had a way of filtering through a 
crack and warming their retreat. At any rate, 
one of the torpid things began to slowly undo 
itself; a small, mouse-like head appeared first, 
having round, delicate ears of membrane, which 
appeared rather too large for its head. Its eyes, 
when it opened them, were exactly like two 
black-jet beads, and its rather wide, pink mouth 
was liberally armed with tiny, saw-like teeth, 
which the fur ball showed as it yawned sleepily, 
stretching itself, and spreading out its wings, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 



289 



to winch were attached by a thin membrance its 
forearms and legs. Then, fully awake, it plunged 
straight through the cobweb curtain, tearing it 
apart from end to end, and sending back a sharp, 
encouraging squeak to the smaller fur ball to 
follow. 

Of course the two ridiculous fur balls were 
just the bat family, and lifelong tenants of the 
old red barn, as everybody knows. The smaller 
more timorous bat, soon followed her mate from 
behind the web curtain and joined him upon 
the broad beam. But so clumsy and half awake 
was she that the very first thing she did was to 
make a misstep and go pitching off the high 
beam into space. She landed upon the hay 
fortunately, and then began the funniest sight' 
Did you ever chance to see a bat when it 
attempted to walk? They seldom use their 
teet, and when they do it is a droll sight 

As soon as Mrs. Bat recovered from her dizzy 
fall, she put forth one wing and a hind leg and 
began to walk toward a beam, for strangely 
enough she could not fly from so low an eleva- 
tion, but must climb some distance in order to 
launch herself properly into the air. Hitching 
and tumbling along she finally reached a beam, 
and clutching it she began to climb it head 



290 WILD DWELLERS OF 

downward, exactly as a woodpecker does. 
Then, having reached the desired height, she 
whirled away, and landed finally beside her 
mate. 

The barn was a very silent place. The rasping 
of its rusty latch always gave ample time for all 
its little wild tenants to get under cover, so usu- 
ally all you heard when you entered would be 
the hidden, lonely trill of a cricket or a faint, 
stealthily rustle in the hay. 

Upon a broad beam far up over the loft where 
the oat straw was stored, lived rather an exclusive 
family, that of the barn owl. You would never 
have dreamed they were there, so well did the 
brown feathers of the owls blend in with the 
dimness of the shadows. Under the grain bins, 
far down below, lived a large colony of fat rats, 
while in among the dried clover raced and 
romped shoals of field-mice who wintered there. 
But there was another, a new tenant, feared and 
shunned by all the 'others. He came from no 
one knew where, exactly ; still the farmer's boy 
might have explained, for he had lost a pet 
ferret. 

The ferret was an ugly creature to look upon, 
its body long and snaky, and covered with yel- 
lowish-white, rather dirty-looking fur ; its move- 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 291 

ments were sly and furtive, and somehow always 
struck terror to every tenant of the barn when- 
ever they saw him steal forth. All winter the 
ferret had been there, and the hay was literally 
honeycombed with its secret tunnels, and woe 
to anything which happened to cross its evil 
trail. 

Each evening soon after twilight the swallows 
would return to the barn from their raids, and 
when the shadows grew quite dusky, far down 
beneath them, then the bats and the barn owl 
family would launch themselves out into the 
night. 

" Squeak, squeak," ordered the big male bat ; 
then like two shadows they would flit silently 
off upon their velvety wings. All during the 
early part of the night they chased gnats and 
bugs, because they invariably got their best pick- 
ings before midnight, for after that time insects 
were harder to find because most of them crawl 
beneath sheltering leaves, as the night wanes, 
to get away from the heavy, drenching dew, or 
hide from their enemies before daylight over- 
takes them. Before the dim shadows began to 
lift, the bats and owls had returned, usually, but 
the bat family did not retire again behind their 
cobweb curtain ; instead they hung themselves 



292 WILD DWELLERS OF 

by their wing claws head downward from their 
beam, folding their wings closely over their 
beady eyes, and thus they would sleep all day. 

Warmer days came, and livelier times were 
stirring among the tenants of the barn. Far up 
on her own beam Mrs. Barn Owl tended and fed 
two young downy owlets faithfully. Of course 
the owl mother knew the beam to be quite a safe 
spot for baby owls, but somehow she distrusted 
the skulking old ferret, whom she occasionally 
caught sight of; besides, rats sometimes climb 
beams, and once, before the owl eggs had hatched, 
something had stolen one egg ; so that is really 
why there were but two owlets instead of three. 

The swallows were the busiest tenants imagi- 
nable, for each nest now held a circle of gaping, 
hungry mouths to feed. All day long, and far 
into twilight, the swallows were whirring inces- 
santly, in and out. But up in the secret cor- 
ner, partially hidden by the torn cobweb cur- 
tain, clung Mrs. Bat herself, and if you could 
only have peeped beneath one of her wings you 
might have seen the dearest little mite of a bat, 
with eyes of jet, clinging close to its mother's 
breast as she folded it tenderly beneath her wing. 
There the helpless little creature stayed, close to 
its mother, until it became older and stronger, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 293 

for among all the tiny, fur-bearing animals there 
is no little mother more considerate of her young 
than the bat. And rather than leave the little 
furry thing all alone upon the great beam when 
she had to go off for food, as she could not carry 
it beneath her wing in flight, she would make a 
kind of little basket cradle by spreading out her 
wing, and thus the baby bat would ride with his 
mother, clinging close to her back with his wing 
hooks and tiny teeth, and he never fell from the 
wing basket nor was he afraid. 

When the young owlets were out of the pin- 
feather stage they began to go out with the old 
ones. But once when they were left behind 
sitting huddled together upon their beam, when 
the mother owl came back only one small, 
chuckle-faced owlet remained. Hunt as she 
might, the robber had left no clue behind 
However, her suspicions centered upon the sly 
old ferret and she took to watching his move- 
ments more than ever. There she would sit 
sullen and revengeful, far up among the shadows 
and beams, with her one owlet. She frequently 
saw the sinuous, snake-like body of the ferret 
creep forth, and even caught the sound of his 
peculiarly hateful hiss when he encountered any- 
thing in his path. Once, in a great fury she 



294: WILD DWELLERS OF 

swooped clear down to the barn floor after her 
enemy, but she got there a second too late. The 
sly creature had heard the swish of the owl's 
wings when she left the beam, and caught a 
fleeting glimpse of her blazing yellow e} 7 es, so 
he hastily slid into the nearest runway, and 
the owl flew back to her beam defeated ; but she 
never forgot, she simply waited. 

More and more bold became the raids of the 
hateful old ferret. He robbed the swallows' 
nests ; frequently you might see his dirty-white, 
sinuous body stealing across some high beam, 
creeping, creeping, warily arching his back, 
holding his snaky head high, one foot gathered 
up, looking for an unguarded nest; then, if he 
found one, he would arch his snaky neck over 
the edge of the nest and suck every egg. 

Velvet Wings, the young bat, grew very fast. 
He foraged for himself now, for his wings were 
as broad and fleet as his mother's. Sometimes, 
however, he made a clumsy start and so got 
many a fall. So one night as he started forth 
he fell fluttering and squeaking and protesting, 
until with a soft thud he landed far below upon 
the barn floor. Completely stunned Velvet 
Wings lay there, his wings outspread and help- 
less, his little heart beating so hard it shook his 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 295 

whole body. Of course he saw nothing, so did 
not notice the peaked snout of the sly old ferret 
as he peered inquisitively forth from his lair in 
the haymow to see what the soft thud might 
be. The next instant the ferret had Velvet 
Wings in his cruel mouth, but instead of de- 
vouring him at once he began to have some fun 
with the poor bat, tossing it in the air, then 
pouncing upon it as it fell, mauling it as a cat 
does a mouse, pinning its wings down with both 
fore feet. A second more and Velvet Wings 
would have been lost, but that second was not 
allowed the ferret ; for far up among the brown 
rafters a pair of great, blazing yellow eyes had 
been watching, and like a rocket from above 
fell the old mother owl, clear to the barn floor. 
" Swish, swish," went her great wings, as she 
buried her talons in the back of the dirty-white 
fur coat. With a twist of his snaky, supple body, 
the ferret managed to free himself a second from 
that awful clutch, and arching its back, it began 
to slip away. But the owl was too quick ; land- 
ing upon the ferret's back, she took another, 
firmer hold and bore him, struggling and snarl- 
ing, aloft. 

Down through the center of the old barn a 
broad sunbeam entered. It left a long bar of 



296 WILD DWELLERS OF 

light through the dimness of the dusky place. 
The barn was strangely silent, hushed, but 
many bright eyes had witnessed the tragedy and 
were watching to see the end, but all that they 
finally saw was just a few wisps of white fur, 
which came floating lazily down through the 
bar of light. It appeared not unlike floating 
thistle-down, but it had come from the owl's 
nest, and was the last they ever saw of their 
enemy, the sly old ferret. 

Up there in the dim shadows of the old red 
barn you'll find them all, and should the yellow 
beam of sunlight happen to dance across their 
dark hiding-place, you may plainly see the bat 
family. There they all hang through the day, 
looking for all the world like a row of small 
velvet bags, their bright eyes shrouded by their 
soft wings as they sleep, head downward ; while 
off in quite another corner, perched upon her 
own dusty beam, drowses the brave barn owl 
and her one chuckle-headed owlet. 



XXIII 

NEMOX, THE CEAFTY BOBBER OF THE 
MARSHES 

l^TEMOX, the fisher, who lived in the hollow 
1 > of a great pine tree, in the depths of the 
marsh country, lay stretched out flat upon a lofty 
limb of his home tree, intently watching a 
clumsy black figure which shuffled through the 
aisles of the pines far beneath him. 

He thought the black, shadowy figure must 
be Moween, the black bear, but not feeling quite 
certain about it, Nemox peeked down over the 
limb curiously, hanging over as far as he dared, 
keeping his position upon the limb by digging 
his claws in deeply. His eyes sparkled mali- 
ciously and cunningly as he made sure that it 
actually was Moween herself. Then he knew 
she had come straight from her den up on Por- 
cupine Ridge to forage for food, because down 
below, on the needle-strewn floor of the forest, 
Moween knew she could find plenty of prey for 
the taking. Close hidden beneath the low- 
hanging branches of the spruce bush, she some- 

299 



300 WILD DWELLERS OF 

times came across a frightened partridge, and 
the roots of the pines were simply riddled with 
rabbit burrows. One might always rout out a 
sleepy hedgehog or two, if there chanced to be 
nothing better, for Moween knew the secret of 
avoiding its terrible quills and searching out 
the creature's weak spot, without injury to her 
own snout. So while Moween rummaged about, 
waddling in and out among the bushes, snuffing 
and grunting as she threw over a rotting log 
with her great, padded foot, Nemox, the crafty 
one, continued to watch her and think deeply. 
Very well he knew that the old mother bear 
had left her two innocent, furry little cubs back 
in her den, up on the side of the mountain. 
Nemox, the fisher, in one of his catlike rambles, 
had run across them one day, just outside their 
door, cuffing each other about, and rolling over 
each other like kittens, as their mother watched 
them fondly. Well Nemox knew that the two 
cubs were still too young to follow their mother 
long distances, or down the steep ledges, so of 
course, he reasoned, they must be at home, alone 
and unprotected, this very minute. 

Instantly Nemox had made his plans, and 
while the little black mother bear had buried 
her whole head in a hollow log, hoping to find 



FOKEST, MARSH AND LAKE 301 

honey, Nemox began to 'slide and claw himself 
down out of the pine tree, being careful, of course, 
to climb down upon the far side that Moween 
should not spy him. Then, like a fleet shadow, 
he slipped off through the thick underbrush, and 
following the wide swath of the mother bear's 
trail, he set out for her den. 

Everybody knows that Nemox, the fisher, is 
the craftiest, most savage and powerful fighter of 
his age in the marshes, and most of his kindred 
feared him, giving him a wide berth. Nemox 
belonged to the cat family, and was sometimes 
called "the black cat of the woods." Sinuous 
of body and not unlike his cousin the weasel, only 
larger, he could readily leap forty or fifty feet, 
and always landed, catlike, upon his prey. To 
all this was added great knowledge of woodcraft, 
and reasoning powers, for the clever fisher had 
easily studied out the fact that the bear had left 
her cubs unprotected. No wonder then that the 
fisher was reckoned as a terror of the marsh 
country, for it took the craftiest of the wild to 
outwit him. 

In and out between the rocky ledges and tall 
ferns, always heading for the bear's den, traveled 
Nemox, and just as he drew near the spot where 
the little mother bear had cleverly hidden her 



302 WILD DWELLERS OF 

den, he came right upon the little cubs, who wei*e 
just outside the entrance of the den, and lay 
rolling over each other, having a regular frolic, 
cuffing at a swarm of black butterflies which 
fluttered about the milkweed blossoms. But 
the pretty sight of the round, furry babies of 
Moween at play did not for an instant touch the 
cruel heart of the fisher, who merely bared his 
sharp teeth as he hid behind a convenient black- 
berry bush watching them. 

With twitching tail and whiskers, cat-like, the 
fisher began to creep stealthily toward his prey, 
flattening his lithe body and keeping out of sight 
as he crept nearer and nearer the innocent cubs. 
A swift dart, and he shot straight through the 
air and launched himself upon one of the cubs, 
while the other one sat up in amazement and 
began to whimper like a frightened child. Soon 
Nemox was busy with tooth and nail over the 
limp carcass of the cub, when suddenly his keen 
ear caught the sound, of a stealthy pad, pad, pad ; 
so light a footstep it was that no one but Nemox 
could have heard it. Instantly, fearing the re- 
turn of the mother bear, Nemox left the wounded 
cub, for he had no notion of letting Moween, the 
angry mother, catch him at his cruel work, as 
well Nemox knew that with one blow of her 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 303 

great paw, armed with its lance-like claws, she 
could strike him to earth. He realized he would 
be no match for her unless he chanced to catch 
her napping. 

So the fisher drew off, watching his chances 
from a safe distance, for, if the truth were known, 
Nemox was, in some respects, unless cornered, 
cowardly. He slunk into the shadow of a dark 
ledge, where his dark fur blended so well with 
the gloom that he remained completely concealed. 
He realized that he had taken himself off just in 
time, for the next instant the tall brakes were 
thrust aside ; but instead of the mother bear mak- 
ing her appearance, who should peer out but 
Eelemos, the fox. Very cautiously the fox came 
forth from the bushes, and peered out in rather 
surprised fashion upon the scene before him ; 
the badly wounded cub, and the other one, who 
still whimpered and whined helplessly, crying 
for its mother. Now the fox chanced to be very 
hungry, and the sight of the wounded cub 
tempted him. So he crept warily forward, his 
yellow eyes all agleam, and so intent was the 
fox upon the coming feast that he paid no atten- 
tion to the other cub's little whine of joy and recog- 
nition as a great, black, furry bulk fairly tore its 
way through the thick jungle. Mad with rage 



304 WILD DWELLERS OF 

and fear Moween's little red eyes flashed with 
anger as she caught sight of the fox and her 
wounded cub, and with one great bound she was 
upon him, growling terribly, and then, before 
the fox could even defend himself, the mother 
bear had laid him low, and soon all that remained 
of the proud, sly fox was just a battered red pelt, 
and a bedraggled, limp brush. Then Moween 
went back to attend to the little wounded cub, 
uttering low whines of distress, and lapping it 
tenderly, trying to revive it. 

All this time, Nemox, the fisher, was peering 
out at her from a crack in the ledge, and he had 
seen the awful fate of Eelemos, the fox, and was 
very thankful he had got away from the den 
just in time. Now the fisher had not chanced 
to select the best spot for his hiding-place, for 
back inside of the ledge was the home of Unk- 
Wunk, the hedgehog, who had been asleep inside 
all the time, curled up in a round ball, until, 
finally, Nemox had so crowded him that he be- 
came impatient and suddenly unrolling himself, 
just to teach the intruder better manners, he gave 
him a smart slap across his sneaky pointed snout 
with his dreadful quilly tail. Nemox was so 
taken by surprise that, stifling his angry snarls so 
the mother bear might not hear him, he sneaked 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 305 

back home to the pine forest, his snout full of 
sharp quills, and spent most of the night spitting 
crossly and trying to pull them out of his burn- 
ing flesh. 

Next morning, bright and early, Nemox started 
off hunting once more. He climbed many trees 
looking for game, but in vain ; he even found no 
partridges roosting down in lower branches, as 
usual, for already they had left their nightly 
haunts. At last Nemox reached the foot of a 
giant hackmatack tree, and right in the top of 
its branches he spied a great loose bundle of 
leaves and twigs. 

"Ah," thought Nemox, "the hawks have a 
young family up there, or possibly there are eggs 
in the nest; so much the better," for Nemox loved 
eggs almost more than a young hawk. Very 
hungry was Nemox by this time, so he began to 
climb the tree. At last he reached a limb where 
he could peer into the nest. He was thankful 
that the old hawks were away, for there were 
eggs in the nest. Nemox knew he must hasten, 
for a brooding hawk is never long away from 
her eggs. Flattening himself close to the limb 
Nemox crawled to it, and had just sampled one 
egg f when with a sudden, wild rush of whirling 
wings, the mother hawk landed right upon his 



306 WILD DWELLERS OF 

back, digging her sharp talons into his quiver- 
ing flesh, as he snarled and spit and tore in her 
grasp. Finally, with a swift twist of his agile 
body, Nemox managed to reach the throat of the 
hawk, and in spite of the beating wings, which 
nearly thrashed the breath from his body, Nemox 
clung and clung to the hawk's throat, until they 
both fell to earth. And then Nemox had his 
first decent meal in days, and afterward he 
climbed up to the nest and finished off the eggs, 
which he did not forget. 

Now high above the nest of the hawk, and 
over toward the lake, stood a lonely hemlock 
tree, its limbs broken off by storm after storm. 
Upon the summit of this tree Quoskh, the great 
blue heron, came year after year to build her 
nest and raise her brood. From her high nest, 
where she sat brooding the young herons, now 
just out of their pin-feather age, the mother 
heron could plainly look down upon her neigh- 
bor the hawk, and *saw all the terrible tragedy 
which took place. She saw the dark, slim body 
of Nemox, the robber of the marshes, as he bat- 
tled with the mother hawk, and then the end of 
it all. Quoskh, the heron, was afraid for her 
own young, so much so that for a long while 
afterward she dreaded to leave them alone long 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 307 

enough to fly off after food. Soon, however, they 
became large enough to fly to the lake with her ? 
and she was glad. But Quoskh never forgot 
about the hateful fisher, and always hoped that 
some day she might get the best of him. 

Right in the heart of the marsh-land lay Black 
Lake. Spread out like a sheet of molten lead it 
lay, its lonely waters walled about by thick 
jungles of sedge and cattails; a desolate spot, 
seldom visited by man, but known and haunted 
by all the kindred of the wild. You might trace 
their well-worn trails through the swamp on all 
sides. Here came Moween, the black bear, and 
her one cub, for the other she had lost. The 
sharp teeth of Nemox had done their work. On 
the edge of the lake Unk-Wunk, the porcupine, 
loved to loaf, digging out lily roots, and toward 
night, when shadows crept over the water, Nemox, 
the fisher, would sneak down, hoping to trap 
some little wild thing. 

One day about twilight, when the little her- 
ons were half-grown, a large colony of herons 
came to the lake. It was approaching time for 
their annual colonizing plans, and they always 
meet and talk it over. Down they flocked in 
droves, on wide azure wings, calling to each 
other their lonely salute, " Quoskh, quoskh." 



308 WILD DWELLERS OF 

And after standing on the pebbly shore solemnly 
upon one foot, for a while, at a signal they all 
began to dance a most fantastic sort of a dance, 
which is called " the heron dance." Many were 
the curious eyes watching the strange dance 
of the herons. Among them was Nemox, the 
fisher, who almost forgot to hide himself, so 
taken up in watching the herons was he. How- 
ever, as he watched them a sudden, fascinating 
odor came to his nostrils, and he forgot every- 
thing else — it was catnip. 

Soon he reached the bed of catnip, all silvery 
green leaves, sparkling with dew. He nibbled 
and ate, until finally, overcome completely by 
the fascinating odor, he simply lay down and 
rolled about, purring like a cat for sheer delight. 
He felt dreamy and care-free. But just as he 
was enjoying himself supremely, down floated 
the wide wings of Quoskh, the great blue heron, 
and with two stabs of her sword-like beak she 
had blinded Nemox, and with her wings beaten 
the breath completely out of his body. 

Then, triumphantly, the heron spread her 
great blue wings and flew off into the twilight, 
calling " quoskh, quoskh, quoskh " to her mate 
across the silence of the marshes. 



TIE BEEPER OF MIAMI 






& *&$, 




XXIV 

THE KEEPER OF TAMARACK RIDGE 

SOLOMON of old was wise and old in years. 
So too was Solomon, the old gray lynx, the 
keeper of Tamarack Ridge. Crafty and cruel 
too was this Solomon, and feared and dreaded 
by most of his wild neighbors on the ridge, and 
also by all the dwellers of the swamp below the 
ridge. 

Solomon's thick coat was hoary, of a yellow- 
ish brown, and mottled and shabby, and his 
large round head terminated in sharp, pointed 
ears, set off by coarse, tassel-like tufts of black 
hair, which gave him a sly, sinister expression. 
Although Solomon the lynx was half the size of 
a full-grown panther, he could creep through 
the forest so silently that the soft pad, pad of 
his feet upon the soft mosses, and the time of 
his passing was known to few. He never ex- 
tended any polite courtesies to anything he met, 
for his disposition was so ugly and mean that 
should he chance to meet a bobcat or a porcu- 
pine, he would always bare his cruel teeth in an 

311 



312 WILD DWELLERS OF 

ugly snarl, and slink away into the shadows. 
He mated with none but his own family, two 
interesting kitten cubs, and their mother. 

Solomon Lynx was the oldest and almost the 
last one left of his tribe in the section of Tam- 
arack Ridge. Once they were plentiful enough 
in the Canadian forests, but they had all disap- 
peared, leaving only Solomon and his family as 
keeper of the ridge. Each year he and his 
wild mate raised their family there. Half-way 
up the side of the mountain lay the ridge, one 
of the wildest places in that section, covered 
over by a thick growth of tamarack and moun- 
tain hemlocks. At the foot of the ridge, 
scooped out in a basin between the mountains, 
lay a small, deep lake, and beyond the lake is 
Balsam Swamp. 

To the small lake the boys come occasionally 
to fish for trout or catfish, and here, when the 
deer laws are off, come hunters from afar. Ex- 
cepting for these rare intrusions, Tamarack 
Ridge, the lake, and Balsam Swamp, are inhab- 
ited only by the wild dwellers of the forest, 
creatures of feathers and fur. 

The den of Solomon the lynx lay concealed 
in the thick tamaracks, beneath a jutting ledge 
of rock, the remains of an abandoned lime 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 313 

quarry. Their den was not a pleasant spot ; 
just a deep, dark hole, which runs far under the 
ledge, from the entrance of which often peered 
forth Solomon's crafty face, lighted with yellow 
eyes which flashed fire upon dark nights. The 
floor of the den was strewn over with bones, the 
remains of cruel, snarling feasts, when the whole 
family fought over the possession of a carcass. 
Sometimes it would be a young rabbit, a raccoon, 
or some other timid little wood neighbor, and 
most of them knew the place of Solomon's den, 
and always made a wide detour when possible, 
not caring to cross his path ; so he remained 
absolute monarch of the ridge. 

One day, late in fall, two village boys came 
into the swamp to set snares for muskrats. 
They knew about the keeper of Tamarack 
Ridge and his evil reputation. For often his 
horrid yell might be heard on the outskirts of 
the village on moonlight nights, and they knew 
the lynx was abroad. And sometimes, if hard 
pressed, Solomon was overbold, and he and his 
mate even ventured out of the swamp, and car- 
ried off lambs from the farmyards, and once 
even a young calf. So that finally the farmers 
offered a bounty to any one who would put an 
end to the old lynx. So the boys had brought 



314 WILD DWELLERS OF 

along a large steel trap with them, weighing 
about eighty pounds, strong enough to hold any 
lynx once he was caught in its great steel teeth. 
But when the boys came to set the trap they 
discovered, to their dismay, that some of the 
steel teeth were so badly worn off that the trap 
could not be made to catch properly. Finally 
by stuffing beneath the plate some leaves, they 
raised it enough to make the teeth meet, and 
then baiting their trap with a fresh sheep's head, 
they hastened away, for it was by that time 
nearly dark, and they were afraid that the old 
lynx might even then have been watching them, 
and might leap down upon them from some 
overhanging tree, as he had a way of doing 
when it suited him. 

To tell the truth, Solomon had seen the boys, 
and his curiosity had been aroused as to just 
what they had been about down on the edge of 
the lake. From his place of concealment, ly- 
ing out flat upon the 'lime ledge just above his 
den, he had watched and peered at them be- 
tween the overhanging tamaracks. And then as 
the boys started to leave, just as a pleasant 
warning to them, that they might not approach 
the ridge, he raised his head and sent out, one 
after another, a series of his blood-curdling, 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 315 

horrid yells, which so terrified the boys that 
they took to their heels and ran, as fast as they 
were able, away, away from those awful cries. 

That night it was clear and keen, with frost 
in the air and young ice in the lowlands, so 
that when Solomon at last leisurely took his 
way down from the ridge, with strong, sure 
leaps, he finally came to where the trap was set, 
and by this time bait, trap, and all were frozen 
solid. So Solomon had no difficulty about the 
trap ; it could not spring, and he devoured the 
bait unharmed, tossing the trap far aside in con- 
tempt when he had secured the sheep's head. 

As you can well imagine, the boys, when they 
dared come back to see if their trap had been 
sprung, and if they had actually caught a lynx, 
were thoroughly disgusted at the outcome of 
their well-laid plans, and almost gave up all 
hope of ever capturing the lynx. All through 
the winter months, after snowfall, Solomon's 
tracks might be found, as they were readily dis- 
tinguished from those of the foxes and other 
wild things because Solomon always took long, 
flying leaps across the snow, leaving a set of 
deep, round holes wherever his tufted feet 
struck. More than once his awful yell had 
been heard upon moonlight nights close to the 



316 WILD DWELLERS OF 

traveled roads, and many were afraid to venture 
out late at night because of the lynx, and the 
little children would whimper and cry, and hide 
their heads in terror beneath the quilts, when 
they heard Solomon's screech in the night. 

When early spring came, the boys came again 
to the lake, this time for the mountain trout, 
which were running well. They came with a 
team, intending to camp in the balsams all night, 
and tethered their horse securely between two 
rocks, tying him with a double halter that he 
might not stray. The fish were biting splendidly 
along about twilight, and the boys were out on 
a raft some distance from shore. They carried a 
lantern with a reflector to attract the fish, and 
were having great sport. They thought about 
the lynx, but the sport was so keen that they 
forgot their fears. The trout would make a 
circuit of the round lake traveling in schools, 
and when a school of fish came their way, the 
boys were kept busy with their lines, hauling 
in trout. Then they would wait idly until the 
next school came around. During these periods 
of inactivity the boys were quiet, and a deep 
stillness settled over everything. Once a loon 
screeched, and then regularly, over in Balsam 
Swamp, commenced the old hoot owl's lonely 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 317 

cry, " Waugh, waugh, waugh, hu, hu-hu, hu," 
and then an old settler or a bullfrog " zoom, 
zoom'd," over in the marshes. 

Then all at once, in the awful stillness which 
had settled over the lake, came a crashing sound 
in the spruce bush along shore, close to where 
the boys had tethered their horse, followed by 
the well-known, awful yell of the lynx. 

" It's after the horse, perhaps," suggested one 
of the boys. Awful thought ; they must pull 
to shore and find out. So, in spite of their own 
terror, they poled ashore, and when they reached 
the spot where their horse had been tied he was 
no longer there, for the animal, terrified out of 
its senses by the near-by yell of Solomon, had 
broken his halters and made off. The boys de- 
cided then and there that they did not care to 
remain over night, so one of them took the 
wagon shafts, while the other boy pushed be- 
hind, and they tore down the road toward the 
village. Half-way down the mountain road 
they came across their frightened horse, and, 
minus their fish, finally reached home. 

Thus did Solomon hold the fort, and remain 
on as undisputed keeper of the ridge. Never 
could he be trapped or shot, until finally the 
patience of the farmers was at an end, and they 



318 WILD DWELLERS OF 

resolved to rally and have a grand hunt for the 
lynx family ; but even then they failed to catch 
him, and this is how it happened. 

One night that fall, Solomon and his family 
had been out upon one of their bold raids. Right 
into a farmer's barn-yard Solomon ventured this 
time, while his mate waited for him farther up 
the trail. When he met her he dragged after 
him a fine, fat sheep, and together they made 
their way to the den to share the great feast with 
the waiting cubs. When it was finished, they 
all curled themselves up for a long, gluttonous 
sleep, which would last probably until their 
pressing hunger again awakened them. 

Gradually a brooding silence settled over 
mountain and swamp. The moon was setting 
and hung, a slim crescent, just over the edge of 
the dark spruces. Always, before dawn, there 
comes a hush, when even the owls and frogs are 
quiet, and the hermit thrush has finished her all 
night lullaby. It is as if all Nature waited ; 
waited for the birth of a new day. 

Then down from the lime ledge, just above 
Solomon's den, slipped a dark, lithe figure, slim, 
with small, sinister eyes ; it half-scrambled, half- 
clawed its way down to a level with the den of 
the lynx, It moved leisurely but surely, in and 



FOREST, MARSH AND LAKE 819 

out among the tall, rank ferns, threading its 
way with unerring scent, the scent being fresh 
meat. Like a shadow, the long, slim body stole 
inside the bone-strewn den of the lynx, nosing 
about among the gnawed, discarded bones of the 
sheep in disdain, and uttering a hissing, baffled 
growl of disappointment. 

Suddenly a low, rumbling growl of warning 
came from the half-awakened lynx, who had 
somehow scented the presence of an intruder in 
the den, but the growl did not frighten off the 
small, slim visitor, who must be very brave in- 
deed to face Solomon. The eyes of the lynx, 
mere slits of sleepiness, gradually opened wider 
and wider. He had caught sight of the stranger, 
and now thoroughly awake he bared his teeth 
in an ugly snarl of rage at being disturbed from 
his slumbers. 

The next instant, like a flash of lightning, be- 
fore Solomon knew how to prepare himself for 
attack, the slim, dark body had sprung straight 
for his throat. In vain the lynx shook and 
scratched and turned himself about. He could 
not rid himself of the small dark body which 
had fastened itself in his throat and clung and 
clung. Gradually the eyes of Solomon lost all 
luster, and he sank back limp and dead. While 



NOV 29 1913 

320 WILD DWELLEKS OF 

all this had been going on the mother lynx 
and her cubs had awakened, and the old lynx, 
intent only upon saving the cubs, had stolen off 
like a shadow, the cubs following her, into the 
darkness. They had deliberately deserted Solo- 
mon in his extremity. Off over the mountain 
the old lynx led the cubs, and did not stop until 
she had hidden them in a safe retreat miles 
away, upon another spur of the mountain, and 
she never ventured back to Tamarack Ridge 
again. 

When the hunters found the lynx den, they 
also found all that remained of Solomon lying 
cold and stark in the edge of the den. And one 
of the men remarked : 

" Only a weasel could do that. The lynx met 
his match that time." 

Thus ended the long, terrifying reign of Solo- 
mon the lynx, and the den beneath the dark, 
overhanging boughs of the tamarack is now with- 
out its keeper. 



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